Destined
by SuperFreak-Freak
Summary: **Updated 1/22** Uploaded Chapters 11-15! (P/T) The story of Tom and B'Elanna's past. Written during season 4, before the release of Jeri Taylor's
1. Chapter 1

**DESTINED**

****

By: SuperFreak & FREAK

**Disclaimer:** The Characters of Tom and B'Elanna and the rest of the Starship _Voyager _are not ours (although…If paramount wants to sell….). Their friends and families (with the exception of Owen Paris) are ours and we would appreciate it if they would remain that way. Ó 1999 FREAK'S ASYLUM 

**Note to readers:** Due to the fact that when we wrote this, it was written Tom's chapters, then B'Elanna's chapters, which we later switched around, chapter 20 will be Tom's chapter first or it won't make any sense. Sorry for the inconvenience.

**Chapter 1**

The lights to Lt. Tom Paris' quarters turned on as he entered. Tom groaned and called for them off. He shouldn't have rigged the lights to turn on when he entered the room. He'd have to open the circuit board and rewire…

"Later." Tom moaned, flopping down on his couch. Right now, he wanted to sleep forever, try and get the fight out of his mind.

Once again, he and Lt. B'Elanna Torres had had a fight. This time, it wasn't a small one like before. It was so big, and loud, that Lt. Fred Bristow, B'Elanna's neighbor, had to come over and settle the fight, much to the disbelief of the two senior officers. 

By now, the entire crew of _Voyager_ presumably knew of the fight. Tom groaned, knowing that at his next shift, he'd most likely get bogged down with questions from other officers, particularly, Ensign Harry Kim, or maybe even Commander Chakotay. "Just what I need."

The ironic thing was, the fight was all about small things, well, at least, in Tom's opinion. But then again, B'Elanna was half-Klingon, and a female. Not that Tom blamed her, but both species managed to exaggerate things so much. Tom had realized this over his life span, every female acted the same way. 

He sighed. Why did he insist on bringing up small things like whether or not B'Elanna spent enough time with him? Or what about bringing up her mood swings (That was mistake #1)? Of course, she had brought up those things about me too, he thought sourly. And I don't have mood swings, he told himself forcefully. Do I? 

Tom grimaced. Do I spend enough time with B'Elanna? This was how all his relationships died. And if there was one thing he did not want, that was for this relationship to die. He was going to do everything in his power to stop it from dying.

He slowly closed his eyes, and quietly drifted to sleep.

If there's a way that you could be

Everything you want to be

Would you complain that is came too easy?

Just like the games with you and me

A resolution hard to see

But that's Ok, 'cause I don't see

Things that are plain to see

-Violet

Savage Garden

With a crash, one of the last remaining breakable items in B'Elanna's quarters smashed against the wall. The fragments of the blue vase joined the hundreds of other fragments scattered around her quarters. She had gotten past her original anger at Tom and now she was only mad at herself.

She sank to the floor, trembling. She didn't know why she fought with Tom. Her mother used to fight with her father all the time, that was one of the reasons he had left her and her mother. Kathless, she didn't wasn't to drive Tom away, but that was what she was doing.

She wasn't really sure how the fight had started. All she knew was that it had escalated extremely fast. She and Tom had had other fights before, in fact, they had had a lot of fights before, but this one had been the worse. Lt. Bristow even had to break in, it had gotten so bad.

She chided herself for provoking Tom. If she kept that up, he's certainly leave her. She shouldn't argue with him like that. She didn't deserve a guy as great as him, but for some unknown reason, he put up with her. He wouldn't do that for long is she kept arguing with him.

Her anger returned in full force. She jumped up and grabbed a small terra-cotta clay bowl and hurled it toward something, anything, she didn't care what it hit. After that, two wineglasses, still half full, and several Starfleet pads joined the assorted pieces heaped on her floor. She threw one final object across the room for good measure as she walked into her sleeping area and crashed onto her bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

****

Five-year-old B'Elanna Torres ran into her room and slammed the door. The resounding thud offered no comfort. Out of pure spite, she slammed her small fist into the wall. Pain rocketed through her hand and up into her arm. It hurt so badly that it almost covered the pain in her heart. Slowly, the pain in her hand lessened, but her heart still stung as worse as ever.

Her dad was gone forever. He had kissed her cheek, and said he'd write, then left. He had told her it wasn't her fault he was leaving, but she knew it was. If she had been more human, maybe her dad would have stayed. Would he have stayed if she had been a good girl, and not fought at school? Or if she had stayed out of trouble? If only she had been brave and good her dad would have stayed.

The house was so quiet now that her dad was gone. It finally sunk in he was gone forever. B'Elanna's small body trembled with anger and sadness. Slowly the first tear rolled down her cheek. She tried to control them, but they fell more and more rapidly. She tried to stop the sobbing but it was stronger than she was.

The door to B'Elanna's room flew open and her mother strode in. "You dishonorable, cowardly, pahtk. Klingons don't cry!" Her mother roared at her. Than she grabbed B'Elanna's collar and pulled her off the bed so that B'Elanna stood in front of her.

"Now, coward, tell me what you are whimpering about!" 

B'Elanna groped for an explanation, there wasn't an acceptable one.

"Come, out with it Ha' Dlbalt!" Her mother screamed, becoming frustrated. She was impatient to wait any longer so she just brought her hand up and smacked it solidly against the five-year-olds jaw. Then, for the heck of it, she smacked her again. "There. Now you have something to cry about." She growled, stomping out of B'Elanna's room and slamming the door.

B'Elanna choked back her tears. She knew that what she had just received was a taste of what would happen if her mother ever found her crying again. She reached her small fingers up and tenderly fingered the sore spots on her face. They would bruise badly by tomorrow.

She walked over to the window and punched the pad next to it so it would open. There was a beep and the pad flashed but the window would not open. Her mom had locked her in her room again, but B'Elanna didn't care. Being locked in was just an invitation to rewire and get out. It also offered B'Elanna a chance to work with her favorite thing…machines. The young girl plopped herself down in front in front of a panel wrapped her fingers around it and pried it open. 

A few minutes later the window swished open. It took all of the young girl's will power not to shout in triumph. Grabbing the ledge, she pulled herself up and wiggled out. If she was back by dinner, her mom would never knew she left.

***

What happened to our innocence-

Did it go out of style?

Along with our naïveté-

No longer a child,

Different eyes see different things,

Different hearts,

Beat on different strings,

But there are times,

For you and me, 

When all such things agree.

-Different Strings 

Rush 

***

Thomas Eugene Paris nervously twisted the sleeve on his outfit. He was going to Starfleet Academy! He couldn't wait to see it, he'd heard so much about it. 

Beside him, his dad, Admiral Owen Paris, glanced, smiling at his son. Tom grinned back. He was young, but he knew that his dad was proud of him. Even at the early age of five, Tom had a knack for piloting. He had learned it from watching his dad pilot shuttlecrafts and the family hovercraft. 

Tom spent weeks begging his dad to take him to the Academy stimulator to fly a holographic shuttle. Dad had asked him lots of hard questions about piloting. To his dad's amazement and happiness, Tom answered them all right. So now Dad was taking Tom to the Academy. 

Tom wasn't sure how to respond to that. He'd be with a lot of older kids, kids even older than his 10-year-old sister, Danielle. To Tom, that was a very strange thing. Tom really only thought that people looked like his dad, mom and his sisters. Old people were like his dad. Things like that. 

The shuttle landed at the front of the Academy and Tom stood up. Admiral Paris took the youngsters hand and led him inside. 

People Dad called 'Cadets', scurried around, smiling at Tom and nodding to the Admiral. Tom frowned. He never had to nod to his dad, or stand at attention. So why did these kids have to?

A set of doors parted when the two stopped near them. Inside was a large room with yellow lights. Tom knew what this was. This was the stimulator. Happiness shot through him and he raced in.

"Where's the shuttle?" He asked, looking around.

Dad grinned. "Computer, activate piloting simulator Beta-3-Delta."

Tom frowned. That was a strange name for a shuttle. 

Suddenly, the entire room lit up with a shuttle. Tom was standing beside the Conn. He stared at it. "Well?" Dad asked. "Go ahead."

Tom glanced at his dad, then turned to the Conn. He slipped into the chair and tapped at the controls. He felt the shuttle rise into the air and into the outer atmosphere. The sky turned black and dotted with stars. Tom was awed by the sight, but refused to be distracted by them. He quickly turned to the Conn. 

He focused all his attention on the Conn., throwing in a few fancy moves he made up in his head. He could tell his dad was impressed, but Tom didn't take time to talk. He had to pilot the shuttle, and not be distracted. 

He had fun, making up an elaborate story in his head. He was being chased by Romulans, no, the Borg, and he had to save the crew from being destroyed. Then, when he set down the shuttle, a group of people would come out and praise him, and maybe even give him a medal!

"Tom, I think we've had our time. Cadets will want to use the simulator. Maybe tomorrow we can spend some more time."

"But dad!" Tom protested. "I hardly got any time to practice!"

Dad chuckled. "Tom, my boy, you got two hours to do this! And that's pretty impressive for a 5-year-old."

Tom's shoulders sagged. He wanted more time.

"Tell you what." Dad said. "Some of my friends at work want to see you pilot a shuttle. How would you like to present to them what you can do?"

Tom nodded eagerly. 

"Alright, it's settled. Computer, end simulator."

The shuttle and everything disappeared and once again, the same black room with yellow lights appeared.

Tom couldn't wait till the next day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

****

The red sun was setting over the parched land of Qo'nos as eight-year old B'Elanna unpacked the last box of her stuff into her new room. Her mother had decided that B'Elanna would never be honorable enough growing up on Kessik IV. At first, B'Elanna had tried to prove to her mother that she was honorable and courageous. That didn't work. In the end, she had just consented to avoid the wrath of her mother.

B'Elanna had hugged her best-friend, Erva, and bordered a transport to the Klingon Homeworld. They had arrived on Qo'nos late afternoon and began unpacking. B'Elanna had purposely avoided her mother. She didn't want to talk to her. Her temper was boiling, but she didn't want to fight her mother, she was still sore from their last fight.

Grabbing a pad, she laid down on her bed. Since her dad had moved out, her mother had forced her to learn Klingon and when they were on the Klingon Homeworld, she would have to speak it commendably. There were a few words that she wanted to learn before she started school tomorrow.

Her class consisted of mostly Klingons, but there were some other species. Most of the non-Klingon students were children of peace negotiators and scientists, and they were treated with the most respect. All except for B'Elanna, she was constantly teased. They called her mongrel, and half-breed, impure, dishonorable and weak. 

During bat'leth practice, her teachers would pair her off with the strongest boys and try and make her out to be a weakling coward. The anger that pounded through her veins was the only thing that allowed her to keep her ground. In the end, though, she was always beaten. Even in full-blown temper tantrum, she was no match for a full-blooded Klingon.

"Hey, half-breed." J'Kral called out to her one day on her way home. He was the most popular Klingon in her class. He was also the strongest and the bravest and he made fun of her the most. She tried ignoring him, she was almost home, and maybe she wouldn't have to fight today.

J'Kral wasn't one to give up easily. He quickly caught up with her. Grabbing her shoulder, he spun her around, than swung for her jaw. Luckily, B'Elanna was prepared for that and ducked, causing him to hit only air.

While he was still off balance, she slammed her fist into his stomach, causing J'Kral to double over in pain. Before he could right himself, she pounded her fists into his back. Then she ran as fast as she could towards home. If J'Kral caught up with her, he'd kill her.

This wasn't the first time she had narrowly escaped having her face smashed in. A person, especially Klingons, often assumed strength was the most important factor in the outcome of a battle, but B'Elanna quickly learned it wasn't. Sometimes catching your opponent off balance was all that mattered.

J'Kral always started a fight the same way, with a direct blow to the jaw. After having her jaw dislocated three times and broken twice, B'Elanna had learned to duck that first swing. Then, while J'Kral was off balance, she hit him and run like her life depended on it and quite often, too often, it did.

***

I wish it might come to pass,

Not fade like all my dreams.

Just think of what my life might be,

In a world like I have seen.

-Soliloquy 

Rush, 2112

***

"Mom? Can I drive?"

Mrs. Maureen Paris glanced over at Tom. "You're only seven!" She exclaimed. 

"You're way too little."

Tom puffed out his bottom lip as their hovercraft pulled in the Starfleet Transport Building. "Dad let's me." He complained, though didn't go any farther. 

This would Tom's second time at the Academy. This time, he was going to see his dad make a speech to the board of directors or something. 

Tom was only going because he was too little to stay home alone, even with a security alarm. His 9-year-old sister, Nicole, had managed to find a friend to stay with, as did his 12-year-old sister, Danielle. 

This was, however, Tom's first time being transported. 

A Lt. led the two to a transporter pad, wished them a good day, and tapped the control on the console.

Tom didn't even feel a thing as he found himself staring at a man in an Admiral's uniform. He looked at his mom, confused. "That was it?" He blurted out.

Mom and the Admiral both laughed. 

"That was it, son." The admiral replied, and Tom felt a little strange. Only his dad called him 'son'. "Mrs. Paris, it's wonderful to see you again. I'm sorry your husband isn't here, he's in a meeting." 

"Oh, I understand." Mom said, even though Tom didn't.

The admiral held out his hand and mom took it. Then he looked at Tom. "And you must be the Tom Paris I hear so much about." 

Tom nodded, smiling. He knew his dad talked about him a lot. "Yes, sir."

The admiral smiled. "Welcome to the Starfleet Academy. I'm Admiral Jeremy Hetland. I'm going to take you on a tour of the Academy before the conference. Right this way, please." 

Tom stared in awe at the building in the city of Presidio. It was tall, with flags of each of the Federation Planets flapping in the California wind. The grounds were beautiful, green and filled with plants from all over the galaxy. A fountain was near the entrance, and hundreds of cadets were milling around, talking, laughing and happy to have the free time. In the distance, Tom could make out the historical Golden Gate Bridge, lying across the sound.

"It hasn't changed since I was here." Mom said, scrutinizing the flags. "There's a lot more flags than I remember."

"Yes, we've had more planets gain Federation citizenship. Some people think there's too many, but I see no harm in it. Now, please, right this way, and I'll take you on the tour."

Two hours later, the three of them were sitting in the mess hall, a secluded place, away from the cadets.

But Tom couldn't stay still. All these older people! They were all older than Danielle and Nicole, and the teachers, some were older than his parents.

And so many different aliens! Vulcans, Bolians, Betazoids and more aliens that he didn't recognize.

"Who's that?" Tom asked suddenly, pointing. A large male had entered the mess hall and had caught Tom's attention. 

Hetland looked to the person Tom was pointing to. "That, my boy, is Cadet 3rd class Worf. He's the first Klingon to ever join Starfleet."

"Goodness." Mom shuddered. "Now they're allowing Klingons to join? Has Starfleet gone mad?"

Hetland shrugged. "I guess their hoping that if one Klingon joins, other's will follow. Eventually, complete peace between our people will develop. Frankly, Mrs. Paris, I believe that Starfleet is holding their breath and praying not to start a fight."

"I agree. Klingons should stay on their world, not ours."

Tom disagreed, though didn't announce it. Worf was the most fascinating person Tom had ever seen. He had seen Klingons on holo-projections and things like that, but never in real life. He hoped Klingons did join the Federation. He wanted to go to school with one. Yeah, that would be nice.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

****

Tom awoke to the chime of his door. "Come in." He called, sitting up.

The doors parted and Ensign Harry Kim rushed in. "What are you doing?" He asked, looking around. "Lights." Lights flooded the dark room and Tom blinked at the sudden brightness.

"What's going on?" Tom asked, running his hands through his hair.

"You're duty shift starts in 5 minutes." Kim replied. "I tried contacting you, but you weren't responding."

"I was asleep." Tom muttered as they moved towards the turbolift. 

"Yeah, I know." Kim hesitated, opened his mouth, shut it, opened it, then shut it again.

Tom sighed. He knew what was coming. "Out with it, Harry."

Harry smiled nervously. "I was talking to Susan Nicoletti earlier. I was told you and B'Elanna…uh, got in a fight."

Tom took a deep breath as they got onto the turbolift. "Yeah. It got pretty nasty there for a while. Lt. Bristow came over and settled it."

Harry sucked in a breath. "Ouch."

"I'll say." He leaned against the wall. "Never get a Klingon girlfriend, Harry." He told his friend, half-serious, half-joking. "I don't know." He finally said. "I just don't know. She's probably never going to speak to me again. I…I don't want that."

The lift slowed and before the doors opened, Harry patted Tom on the shoulder and said. "Don't worry. I know you. You'll get by."

"I hope so." Tom stepped onto the bridge, apologized to Commander Chakotay for being late, and took his place at the helm.

"Commander," Harry suddenly spoke up. "I'm picking up a ship on long range sensors."

"On screen."

The viewscreen lit up to show a long vessel, with huge long wings on each side. The front of the vessel had a huge animal type thing drawn on the front. It looked like a mixture between a mad cat and the devil.

"Looks like an ancient airplane." Tom commented, to no one particular.

"That it does." Chakotay murmured. He slapped his com-badge. "Captain to the bridge."

The doors at the side of the room parted, and Captain Kathryn Janeway strode onto the bridge. She reached the command chair in about three strides, her short auburn hair perfectly in place. "Report." Her cool tone echoed over the bridge and settled on Lt. Com. Tuvok's console.

"We've detected a vessel on long range sensors." The Vulcan replied calmly. "They're heading in our direction at full impulse. ETA, two minutes."

"Hail them." Janeway ordered.

"No response." Harry said, than hesitated. "Spoke to soon." He apologized. "We are receiving some sort of automated message from the ship, but it's signal is unlike anything I've ever seen."

"Let's hear it."

The intercom crackled in response. A metallic voice began to speak, but in a language Tom didn't recognize.

"Tuvok, can you clear it up?" Chakotay asked.

"I can not. The dialogue is unlike anything we've previously encountered."

"Captain, if these readings are correct," Harry voiced abruptly, "Than the ship is powering up some sort of weapon but-"

He was interrupted by a loud crash and the lights on the bridge went dark. Even the consoles stayed dark, except for the communications button, which was very strange.

The backup lights flashed on, but the consoles remained dark.

Janeway opened her mouth to call for a report, noticed that it was useless to do so at the moment, then settled on, "Harry, Tom, report to Engineering. Ask what's going on and give me a full report. Take tricorders, they're probably the only things still working. Once you get there, set up an active COM system using the tricorders."

"Aye, ma'am." Harry started for the turbolift, Tom following wearily.

Now he had to face B'Elanna. Janeway must have heard the rumors. This was great, just great.

The doors to the lift didn't open and Harry glanced blankly at Tom.

"Jeffries tubes." Tom ordered, sighing. What was worse, seeing B'Elanna or crawling through tiny, annoying little tubes? He didn't care at the moment and followed Harry down to Engineering.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

****

"What have you done that is brave and honorable this year? How have you distinguished yourself?" D'Elaine Torres questioned her 13-year-old daughter. 

B'Elanna fidgeted in her chair. In her mind she was running through everything that had happened in the past year. She was searching for a single event that she could twist into being honorable enough to please her mother. If she could just think of something her mother would let her leave. There was nothing. Maybe she'd try a new approach. On all of the Day of Honor's past, she had come up with honorable happening and still had to spend her whole day contemplating her honor. This may just work.

"D'Elaine Torres of the house of Dursa, I have done nothing to distinguish myself. I have brought no honor on my house or myself. I have been nothing but a dishonorable cowardly, half-human pahtk." She stated flat out. Her mother growled and stormed out of her bedroom, slamming every door along the way.

B'Elanna knew her mother was absolutely furious with her, but she didn't care. At least now she didn't have to spend the rest of her day contemplating honor.

Everything would be closed today to help Klingons avoid distraction. Her only close friend was the son of a Trill scientist. He had said that his father's partner had invited them over for a bat'leth competition today. That would be fun to go watch him fight. (But, of course, her mother had forbid her to go.) Teznar was very fit and had dark brown eyes and dark hair. He was one of the best bat'leth fighters in his age group. When he fought, every muscle in his chest rippled. He had taught her some fighting moves and on many occasions, she had lost her concentration watching him. He fought with such grace he made it look easy. Watching him would make up for her mother getting mad at her.

Teznar's father's partner lived just down the street. If she remembered right, there was a tree that looked right over into the backyard. She'd just climb up there and watch. No one would notice.

She popped open the access panel below her window. She didn't even bother to check if her mother had locked her in. After five minutes of work, the window swished open. B'Elanna quickly hopped out of her window and headed down the street.

Upon arriving at the house, B'Elanna found the best way to sneak around back would be through a hedge of heavily thorn bushes called Tek'nar. Taking a deep breath, she dropped down on her hands and knees and began to crawl. 

Watching Teznar fight would make up for the pain she was going through to get there. The large thorns tore at her skin, like daggers ripping the flesh open. The scratches stung furiously. Slowly, cautiously, B'Elanna grouped her way through the darkness. Every movement seemed to cause some part of her body to come into contact with another one of those blasted thorns. She occupied her self by contemplating which was worse; the ritual of the twenty pain sticks she had endured earlier that morning, or climbing through the Tek'nar hedge. She decided to Tek'nar was worse, much worse.

Spotting the tree, she began to climb. About twelve feet off the ground there was a branch and she pulled herself up. It took her a moment, but she finally got herself arranged so that she could see the ceremonial-fighting circle, but so that (she hoped) no one could see her.

At the moment, Teznar seemed to be on the offense. That was good, he fought best on the offense. After a few moments, Teznar had disarmed his partner. 

Luckily for the Klingon, Teznar was fighting Trills were considered honorable or else his honor would be seriously tarnished. B'Elanna was quite enjoying watching Teznar prepare for the deathblow. He lowered his bat'leth, than quickly stopped lowering it to his side and stepping back. Thick strands of B'Elanna's coarse brown hair slipped from the braid she had carelessly woven it into this morning. Quickly, she reached her hand up to push the hair from her eyes. The change in position caused her to loose her balance, which, in turn, sent her straight down to the ground.

A pain shot through her back, where she landed. She knew she'd be sore tomorrow.

"Hey, B'Elanna, nice of you to drop in." Teznar called. Suddenly realizing where she had landed, a cherry blush crept over B'Elanna's face.

"My goodness, child, what were you doing in that tree?" Teznar's mother, Jezneka, asked. B'Elanna like Jezneka, but sometimes she was just too nice.

Picking herself up, B'Elanna tried to explain, but all she could get out was some senseless mumbling.

"Well, I guess we'd better call your mother." Jezneka volunteered.

"No, that's all right, I'll just be on my way." B'Elanna said, regaining her voice.

"No, no, that's not acceptable, you are injured. We wouldn't want you to fall over in the middle of the street." Jezneka told her, her mind already made up as she headed into the house to contact D'Elaine Torres.

"My mother wouldn't care." B'Elanna mumbled under her breath. She thought about sneaking out before Jezneka returned with her mother. Then she realized that wouldn't work because everyone was watching her now. After a few moments, a furious D'Elaine Torres appeared, trailed by Jezneka.

"bID tlhInga pahtk, what are you doing here? How did you get out?!" She screamed. B'Elanna didn't respond. After years of fighting with her mother, she had learned when she should respond and when it was useless. Right now, it was pointless.

Grabbing her daughter's wrists, D'Elaine dragged B'Elanna out of the yard. B'Elanna didn't know which was worse; how mad her mother was at her, or the embarrassment she felt from getting caught.

***

You're never safe 'till you see the

Dawn

And if the clock strikes past midnight

The hope it gone

To move under

The moonlight

Savage Garden

-Carry on Dancing 

***

"Dad, I don't feel good!" 12-year-old Tom yelled at his dad. 

"Tom, that's enough." Admiral Paris ordered. "You're going to school." He turned on heel and stormed out of the living room.

Tom growled, then shouted, "I wish mom were here," before turning and running up to his room.

Tom paced back and forth in his room, his headache growing. His mom and Danielle had gone to Los Angeles to find Danielle, now 17, a good school for people interested in plants. That left Tom and 14-year-old Nicole Paris with their dad until mom came back. So far, his mom had been gone for 3 days and in that time, Tom not only became moody and uncontrollable, but stubborn as well. 

His dream of becoming a highly respected person at Starfleet had long since vanished, along with any time he wished to spend with his friends. His parents had received Tom's report card.

Tom stopped pacing and flung himself onto the bed. "Damnit." He mumbled, then yelled. "I'm still not feeling very good," at the top of his lungs.

"You're going to school!" Admiral Paris yelled back.

Tom muttered a Klingon oath and got up, jamming his foot into his boot. His stomach cried out in pain his throat from when he had yelled, and his headache had grown bigger. He really was sick, and he knew it. Why couldn't his dad see it?

Ever since Tom turned 8, his dad had spent a lot of time at work. That's during the time that Tom started getting in trouble, learning the Klingon language, and becoming more interested in piloting.

His friends were a group of kids that had a 'unique' aspect about them. His best friend was Jeff Hunter. Jeff had a temper, but was Tom's best friend anyway. He was the first out of both of them to kiss a girl, something Tom was envious of. 

"Tom!" Nicole yelled, then entered his room. "It's time to go."

Tom glared at his sister. "Don't you ever knock?"

Nicole rolled her eyed and grabbed her brother's arm. That was all it took. Tom threw up on his sister.

"Levodian flu." Dr. Allen Johnson confirmed, putting away his medical tricorder. "Well, Tom, you are sick."

Tom sent a smirk in his dad's direction, though Admiral Paris didn't see it. He hoped this stupid flu was curable, and could be fixed right there on the spot. He had to meet Jeff after school so they could go swimming.

"Levodian flu is a 29 hour flu. It's only curable by staying in bed, and drinking lots of water." Dr. Johnson looked at Tom. "How do you feel?"

Tom forced himself not to respond with, "You're the one with the medical experience, you tell me," and settled on, "Not too good. Can you do something for this sore throat?"

Dr. Johnson nodded, and handed him a spray bottle. Tom sprayed it in his mouth and it felt better. But the second that was over, he broke into a fit of sneezing.

Dr. Johnson laughed. "It's a good thing it's a weekend. You won't have to miss any school."

Tom groaned. Just what he wanted.

"I hate staying in bed." Tom complained to his mom the next day. She had returned, without Danielle, yesterday and had taken immediate actions towards her sick son.

Mom put down her tray of food, mainly homemade chicken soup, and pulled the covers up over her son. "You'll be out of bed by Monday morning, Tom. Get some rest." She kissed him on the forehead and headed out of the room, almost crashing into Nicole.

"Hey, Tom, Jeff's here. Says he has to talk to you." She said. Than she walked away.

Mom looked a little unsure as Jeff bounced into the room. She didn't say anything and closed the door.

"Bummer." Jeff retorted when he saw Tom. "And on the weekend, too." He sat on the foot of the bed, ignoring Tom's menacing glare. "Look, are you out of here by tomorrow?"

"No." 

"Too bad. Because I ran into someone by the name of Maria Dunsford."

Tom sat up straight, eyes wide. "Maria?" His eyes narrowed. "OK, what did you say to her?"

"Nothing!" Jeff protested. "But I did say you would go out on a double date with her, me and Erin." 

Tom groaned. "You didn't!"

"I did. Now, here's how I see it…"

"Two medium pepperoni and Kavarian olive pizza's and four cokes. Will that be everything?" The waiter asked, glancing down at the four kids in front of him.

"Yes." Jeff said and the waiter left with his menu pad. He leaned across the table. 

"Boy, am I glad your sister has that stupid band recital today." He whispered to Tom, who nodded.

"So, Tom," Maria cut in. "Jeff tells me you're planning to join the Academy. Is that right?"

Tom nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."

"I hear your father is a very highly respected Admiral." Jeff's girlfriend, Erin Callway, leaned across the table, interested. "Does that mean he's, like, head man at the Federation council?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so. He works sometimes at Starfleet Command or the Acad-" Tom froze in mid-sentence. "Uh, Jeff, can I speak to you?"

Jeff frowned. "Why?"

"Please!" Tom was already out of his seat, leaving the two girls totally confused at the table. He heard Jeff apologize to them, then angrily barge into the restroom where Tom was hiding.

"What the hell was that for?" Jeff demanded. "Have you completely lost your mind?!"

"My parents are here." Tom was checking the window. "I have to get out of here." He pried the panel off the window controls and stared blankly at the mesh of circuits and a control pad.

He suddenly wished he knew what to do. Jeff wasn't helping much. He was pacing back and forth, snapping at Tom for leaving him alone at the restaurant. 

Tom reached forward to touch a wire. He felt a shock and yanked his hand away. He tried again, with the same results. "Jeff, will you stop complaining and help me?"

Jeff sighed. "I don't know anything about circuit panels."

Tom muttered a Klingon oath. The one time he needed an engineer and there was none to be found. He typed an overload command into the panel. 

"Authorization code needed." The computer said blandly.

Tom punched the wall and immediately regretted it.

"If you swear in Klingon again, I'll kill you." Jeff threatened. "Look, why don't you just slip out the front door?"

"Forget it. Too risky." Tom hesitated, trying to remember what he learned in school. Maybe it did pay to pay attention in school. He had had enough. Bracing himself, he reached forward and ripped the wires out of the box. It sparked and crackled, but the window opened.

Tom grinned and crawled out the window. "I'll see you on Monday." He called to Jeff and ran home.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Bleep…incoming transmission for B'Elanna." The computer stated. B'Elanna jumped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and sat down in front of the terminal screen. Pulling her hair out of her eyes, she accepted the message. Teznar's spotted face appeared on the screen.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Now**

****

Janeway, with arms crossed, stared at the blackened viewscreen, wishing there was way to look out into outer space. She turned to Tuvok. "Any success in getting our systems back on line?" She asked.

"No, Captain." Tuvok replied, as if nothing had happened. "It is impossible to bring any system on-line without any sort of tools available."

"We're being hailed, audio only." The officer that had taken Kim's place interrupted, and Janeway turned her head in his direction, noticing the small single yellow padd.

Janeway felt a wave of relief settle over her. "Let's hear it."

"Captain," A voice crackled over the intercom, "I am Chancellor Z'Mor. We detected your ship on our sensors during our regular border patrol and noticed you ship drifting into our space."

Janeway grinned and turned to the black screen, wishing she could see Z'Mor and thank him personally. "This is Captain Janeway of the Starship Voyager. We have been attacked and require assistance. Our ship's navigation controls, along with our other systems have been drained of power. We had a little run in with..." 

"The Demori." Z'Mor broke in.

"Demori?"

"Our neighboring system. It is them we are patrolling our borders from. They like to...attack unsuspecting ships, which have crossed their borders. But since you've slipped into our space, you will be safe, for a while, anyway. Tell me, Captain, is there anything we can do for you?"

Janeway glanced at Chakotay. "How do we get our systems' back?"

"Oh, well, you don't."

The Jeffries Tube door opened and Harry Kim slid into Engineering, Tom following right behind.

"I do not want to be here." Tom muttered to Harry as he closed the hatch.

Harry smiled under the dim light. "Don't worry. We're here to do a job for the captain, remember?"

"That's kind of hard." Tom moaned.

"Lt. Paris, Ensign Kim."

Both looked up at Lt. Carey.

"Status?" Paris asked, approaching the Lt.

"Well, we can't get anything on-line," Carey said as they headed around the warp core, which was now dark instead of the usual blue. "Lt. Torres is at her wits-end. She's tried everything-"

"Tom," Harry turned to the Lt. "Why don't you help B'Elanna with her duties? Lt. Carey and I will work on getting the other systems back on line." Harry grinned as he and Lt. Carey walked away, leaving Tom glaring after his friend.

"Is there something I can help you with, Lt.?"

Tom jumped and turned to Ensign Vorik. "Uh, actually I..." Tom sighed. "Do you know where B...Lt. Torres is?" He asked meekly.

"Astrometrics, I believe."

"Thanks." Tom turned and jogged out of Engineering and towards Astrometrics. Outside, he took a deep breath and entered. The lighting was dim, and a lone figure was hunched over an open console, obviously frustrated.

B'Elanna Torres tensed when Tom entered and looked over shoulder. "What do you want?" She demanded when she saw him.

"Hello to you too." Tom retorted. "Captain Janeway sent me down to help."

"Good. They need help in Engineering." She turned back to the console.

"Harry's in Engineering." Tom told her. He hesitated, then walked over and stood in front of B'Elanna. "I'm here to help you."

B'Elanna looked up eyes not at all apologetic or happy to see him. Was she still angry with him? "Haven't you helped enough?" She snapped, then glared down at her tricorder. 

Ouch. Tom grimaced. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

B'Elanna didn't respond; either she was ignoring him, or she didn't know herself. Tom couldn't tell.

There was silence, all except the sounds coming from B'Elanna's tricorder.

"Well? Aren't you going to apologize?" B'Elanna finally asked, looking up.

Tom broke. "Apologize! For what?!"

"The fight." B'Elanna said it so calmly that Tom was tempted to throw up.

"This is not fair!" Tom cried out. "I didn't start it!" _Did I?_

B'Elanna slammed down the tricorder so hard that Tom jumped. He was surprised it still worked. "Damnit, Tom, I-"

She was cut off as the ship suddenly rocked to the left, then to the right.

It rocked so violently, that consoles blasted open and Tom could hear things falling from the ceiling and to the ground. Both officers were thrown across the room.

The rocking finally stopped. Tom picked himself up, feeling a little dizzy, and stepped towards the doors. They didn't open. "Computer, override."

Still nothing. The computer didn't even respond. He looked around and grabbed the tricorder off the floor, turning it on and running it across the doors. He then turned back to B'Elanna, who was standing, arms crossed, next to a console.

"There's a beam across the door." Tom explained. His headache grew bigger. "We're locked in."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 **

****

"You will not go to the Academy. Only cowards need Starfleet to hide behind. You will grow to a brave and honorable warrior, serving that vast and great Klingon Empire." D'Elaine started. "If you wish, I will enter you in the Klingon Academy." Her voice was unusually bland, which meant her horrendous temper was in check for the moment. B'Elanna was so mad that her mother wouldn't let her go to the Starfleet Academy.

She'd been working for a year now, since she was 16 ½ to convince her mother that she could go. She had slept with all sorts of guys to guarantee good grades on group projects. She stayed up all night, weeks in a row, to pass the tests. Now that she was accepted into the Academy, her mother wouldn't let her go.

"You were married to a 'fleeter, or have you forgotten?" B'Elanna cried suddenly at her mother.

"No, I have not forgotten. That was the biggest mistake I ever made. It has caused me nothing but trouble." D'Elaine replied.

B'Elanna's whole body stung and then went numb. She knew her mother thought of her as a mistake, but it still hurt to hear her say it. A heavy fog settled over B'Elanna's brain. Then she quickly built up the walls that protected her from other people. The same walls she had used in her relationships with all of her boyfriends. She wanted to cry, her dreams had just been shattered. She loved engineering, now her mother wasn't going to give her the option to become one of the most prestigious engineers in the galaxy. 

Not wanting to look at her mother any longer, B'Elanna stumbled to her feet and ran to her bedroom, slamming the door. After a few seconds, she heard all the locks click.

If she were ever going to do something with her life, it would have to start now.

Grabbing a black duffel bag from a shelf in her closet, B'Elanna began throwing what she'd need into it. Some extra clothes, a few pads with engineering manuals on them, and the letter of acceptance and full scholarship to the Starfleet Academy entered the bag.

She decided she'd hitch hike her way to earth. It wouldn't be any rougher than living at home. 

Since her mother had thrown out Teznar, B'Elanna's life had gone downhill. She slept with any and every guy she crossed paths with. She'd lost count of how many guys that was, but didn't care to try and remember. She had become something of a sideshow at a perverse circus. Most of the guys just wanted to see if what they heard about Klingons was true. B'Elanna had always put on quite the act for them. There was never any type of love between her and the numerous partners, but she didn't care. It was a way to pass the time. At least when she was in bed with them, they didn't call her names.

At least that would be over now. No more sleeping with guys to guarantee a passing grade. She'd get away from her reputation, start over at the Academy.

B'Elanna walked over to the window and pried open the access panel beneath it. A few seconds later, the window opened. Shouldering the bad, B'Elanna slipped out into the reddish glow as the hot sun of Q'Nos set. Starting off at a slow jog, she headed down the road gradually increasing her pace. Her destination was the docking bay. She'd by a ticket for the next shuttle headed for the Alpha Quadrant. She didn't really care where its destination was, as long as she got there. She had six months before she turned eighteen and could enroll in the Academy.

B'Elanna felt very lucky, she couldn't believe her break. The next off-world flight was leaving tomorrow morning and heading straight for earth. B'Elanna bought a ticket. Tonight she'd stay in a hotel room and tomorrow she'd be off to follow her life's dream. She was headed for the Academy on a full scholarship. She, B'Elanna Torres, the half-breed mongrel, was going to become a member of the prestigious Starfleet.

After seven days travel, the shuttle docked on earth. B'Elanna didn't know what she was going to do. She still had six months until she could enroll in the Academy and no where to go. She had some Klingon money, but not enough for an apartment. She didn't have a job. For right now, she'd just have to check into a hotel. She began walking down the streets of San Francisco. Heads turned and people stared as she passed. Mothers shoved their children away from her. B'Elanna was use to it. People were scared of Klingons, even after the Federation/Klingon Peace Treaty. To B'Elanna, it was a fact of life.

After a few minutes, B'Elanna came to a cheap trashy hotel, owned by a Ferengi. She checked in at the front desk and then headed towards room 147. The room contained a bed, dresser and a small replicator unit. After throwing her duffel bag on the ground, she dropped onto the bed and fell asleep. She was extremely tired from her journey and she would have to start hunting for a job tomorrow. Maybe she'd look up her dad. When he had left, he'd been heading for earth. There was a slight chance he might still be here. It was not very likely, though, the geology of the earth was already pretty much explored.

The next morning, B'Elanna woke refreshed and with replenished energy. After a quick shower, she headed out to search for her father. She had decided the Starfleet Headquarters would be the best place to start. Upon arriving, she paid the fees to use the information console and chose the people search. She tapped in 'Torres, Paul' and 'human.' After a few seconds, the terminal displayed his service records. She downloaded them onto a blank padd and left. She didn't really want to read them now and even if she had wanted to, she didn't have the time. She had an interview at a repair shop in 10 minutes.

***

Running from a history, a past

Leave it all behind me

Will the next day be my last

Another fight, another win

Left a thousand lovers behind

Those I used to try and quench the rawness inside

It hurts worse still

Millions left me feeling lost and cold

Alone in a world of pain

Never one I loved did I behold

A contemplation

Of self mutilation

-By: Alyson Louise

***

Starfleet Academy. Eighteen years Tom had been outwardly waiting this time with happiness. But inwardly, he didn't want to be there.

He had stepped off the shuttle and was now standing in front of the Starfleet Academy Entrance building. It was huge. A flag of every Federation planet fluttered in the Californian wind and the fountain out front was spraying water, which caused mist to whip around Tom's face.

He was glad his mom had decided to stay home and not coming with him. He didn't want her there and making a big deal about him getting older. She'd done that at home.

What made Tom a little angry was that neither Danielle nor Nicole had come to see him. Nicole had been accepted into the Aldebaran Music Academy and Danielle was busy with her plant studies. In fact, Tom realized, he hadn't seen his oldest sister in the flesh in 4 years, and for some odd reason, that bothered him. What also bothered him was his life since he realized his best friend had been using him because of his father's position. Jeff and Tom hadn't gotten along since that incident with the shuttle and Tycho City. Their friendship ended soon afterwards and Tom had started hanging around friends that his parents didn't like, especially his father. Tom started drinking and gambling, and womanizing, which was now second nature in his life. 

His father hadn't had much time to be around Tom, and they grew even further apart than before. Admiral Paris was hardly ever home, and when he was, he was arguing with Tom about his friends, or something else he didn't find satisfactory in Tom's life. Tom soon learned that Admiral Paris preferred to spend time away from his son, and Tom was fine with that, although he knew the Admiral wanted his son to excel in his studies and not his social life.

_Sorry to disappoint, Dad, _Tom thought bitterly.

"Are you going in or are you just going to stand here for the rest of eternity?"

Tom jumped at the sound and turned around. A half human, half Bajoran stood behind him, arms crossed. He was scowling.

"Maybe I'll just stay here." Tom snapped. He turned away, glanced down at his padd, then headed off towards his dorm.

While wandering through the halls of the Academy, Tom noticed the kid was trailing him. He quickened his pace, and so did the kid. Where the hell was his dorm?

"Are you following me?" Tom asked suddenly, turning to face the Bajoran.

The kid glared at Tom. "No."

"Good."

Tom continued walking, and so did the Bajoran.

108, 109, 110, 111…Tom stopped in front of room 112. So did the Bajoran.

Tom suddenly understood. "Oh no." He muttered. 

"Hey, I don't like this any more than you do." The Bajoran snapped. He reached forward and touched the keypad.

The door snaked open and they entered together, squeezing through the door jam. Tom glared at the kid, then looked around. He knew what the dorms looked like, he had seen them on his tour when he was seven. 

Tom flung his duffel bag onto the bed nearest to the door, immediately claiming it. Then he turned to the Bajoran/human.

"Since we're going to be sharing a dorm," Tom started. "I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Tom Paris." He extended his hand.

"Dnar Kevin." He took Tom's hand limply, then turned away to face his bed.

Tom frowned. Dnar Kevin? He knew Dnar wasn't human, but still…it clicked. Bajorans always put their last names first. It was a sign of family to them or something like that. "Mind if I call you Kevin?"

Kevin shrugged. "Go ahead."

Two weeks at the Academy and 10 calls from Tom's parents hadn't softened Tom Paris. He tried hard in all his classes, but still spent all his time checking out the hundreds of girls that attended the Academy. Kevin was scarcely seen in those two weeks, but Tom didn't mind. He liked spending time alone.

His parents seemed to not get the point, especially his mom. Every call they made lasted at least an hour and if Tom was lucky, only a half an hour. Mrs. Paris insisted on knowing everything that was going on at the Academy, as if she'd never been there before. She told Tom that she was 'counting down the days until Parent Visitation Day.' Tom, on the other hand, dreaded it.

"You have to show us your dorm and introduce us to your roommate." Tom muttered to himself, mimicking his mother. He hadn't done either. 

Tom groaned inwardly. Four weeks he'd been at the Academy. With his parents there to look over his shoulder, things were going downhill, fast.

Admiral Paris had insisted on bragging about his son to every one of his captain and Admiral friends that were there for Parent Visitation Day. That drove Tom crazy. His mom asked who the 'social' people were and started talking to them. Tom knew his mom was always sort of a 'social butterfly' as they were called in the 20th century.

Tom sat alone at a table, nursing drink (which he was on his 3rd) and was extremely bored.

"Mind if I join you?"

Tom recognized the voice, so he didn't look up, just nodded.

Kevin sat down. There was silence between them. Kevin looked around and sighed.

"What?" Tom snapped, immediately regretting it. "Sorry. I guess I'm a little…annoyed with my parents."

"At least yours came." Kevin mumbled. He said it like he didn't care, but Tom knew disappointment when he saw it. 

"Where are they?" Tom asked, offering Kevin one of his drinks.

"Mom's dead." He replied, gratefully accepting the drink. "She was a Resistance fighter on Bajor. I was four when she died. Don't know anything about my dad, never met him. All I know about him is that he is human." Kevin shrugged. "I grew up on a station called Terok Nor, it's a Cardassian station orbiting Bajor. Ever hear of it?"

Tom shook his head. "Can't say that I have."

"Oh. It's…kind of a death camp, like they had during Earth's WWII. I stowed away on a shuttle bound for earth last year and ended up here."

"You like history?" Tom asked, suddenly interested when Kevin brought up WWII.

"Sure. Anything from the 20th century, up."

"Me too!" Tom was starting to have 2nd thoughts about his roommate. Kevin wasn't as bad as Tom had first thought.

"Tom!" Mrs. Paris' voice cut through the conversation.

Tom groaned. "Uh oh. If I were you, I'd get out of here."

Kevin made a beeline for the door, but was cut off Mrs. Paris. 

He sat down, casting a worried look at Tom, who raised his glass and downed the rest of his drink.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

****

"Cadet Torres, please state the step by step procedures for an emergency warp core shut down while traveling at warp 8." Professor Jameson asked, standing in front of B'Elanna's desk.

B'Elanna couldn't stand Jameson, he always picked on her and the way he looked at her made her uncomfortable. She couldn't wait until next year when she was through with his Basic Warp Theory class. 

But Jameson wasn't the only one-all of her professors acted like that towards her. A few of them were impressed with her knowledge on engineering, but no one except her track coach treated her fairly.

Taking a deep breath, B'Elanna stood and recited each step perfectly. Just as she finished the last step, the bell signaling class was ending, rang and B'Elanna gathered her padds and quickly escaped the look from Professor Jameson. If she was lucky, everyone would leave her alone during lunch and she could study for astrophysics.

B'Elanna replicated a bowl of tomato soup and then sank down into a chair of a back table.

"Hey mongrel." A human by the name of Dylan called out to her. Dylan loved to harass her. Not to mention, he was gorgeous, with dark brown hair, blue eyes and a very fit body. He was the most popular first year cadet-which was why he was able to get away with harassing B'Elanna. After 18 years of being harassed, however, B'Elanna found that the best strategy was just to ignore it.

"Bitch, I was talking to you." Dylan said a little louder. As he did, he moved closer and took up a slightly aggressive stance. B'Elanna kept ignoring him, hoping he would get the idea. He didn't and moved closer.

The muscles in B'Elanna's body tensed and the adrenaline pumped through her. It was the fight-or-flight response. How people, as a group, were so advanced but still had yet to overcome their basic instincts baffled B'Elanna.

"You know, I heard back on the home world you used to throw some pretty wild 2 person parties. So I got to thinking maybe you'd like to come over and we could uh…celebrate." Dylan said in a husky voice for her ears only. Sexual harassment was a big no-no at the Academy, but if no one heard it, no one could be punished.

That last comment was the last straw for B'Elanna. She could deal with the names, but bringing up her past really caused her to lose control. She shot out of her chair, causing it and her tray to crash to the floor. Quickly, she assumed a fighting stance and waited for Dylan to throw the first punch.

"Oh, so you want to play games. Well, that's cool with me." Dylan said in his usual cocky manner. He was the son of some high ranking 'Fleeter and he thought that made him exempt from everything. B'Elanna despised people like that, people who never worked to get where they were now. People who got their life laid out and then handed to them on a silver platter.

Assuming a fighting stance, Dylan jabbed his right hand straight for B'Elanna's face. Silently B'Elanna chuckled to herself, bullies in every culture had some of the exact same traits. Before he could regain his balance, B'Elanna slammed her left fist into his stomach. Amazingly he didn't double over in pain. Before he could throw another punch, B'Elanna's right hand rocketed form her side and made direct contact with Dylan's face. The impact caused him to step backwards to avoid falling. Barley half a second later, Dylan's right hand flew towards B'Elanna's face. B'Elanna wasn't prepared for him to swing back so quickly and his fist made solid impact with her left eye. 

B'Elanna lifted her arm as though to punch him again, when she felt someone grab her from behind. Without even looking, she knew it was security. Deciding that putting up a big fight would only get her into more trouble, she allowed the guards to drag her out.

A large crowd of student parted to allow the security guards to pass. B'Elanna hadn't ever realized people had been watching. She began scanning the crowd for people she knew. One guy particular caught her eye. She didn't know him, but he had the most gorgeous blue eyes she had ever seen. His pale skin and ruffled blond hair accented his eyes perfectly. She didn't realize she was staring until he looked over at her. She felt so embarrassed for getting caught, she was sure her cheeks immediately turned five shades redder. Quickly, she smiled then turned her head straightforward she was concentrating on the door ahead. The door that lead to the dean's office, where she would undoubtedly receive another one of her infamous lectures.

In the few short months she had been attending the Academy, B'Elanna had visited the dean more times than the average cadet ever did during their time Academy. She had been there twice for fighting and at least eight times for arguing with an instructor. This time wouldn't be the first nor would it be the last. It was just one the string of visits B'Elanna paid to the dean.

Someone pounded on her dorm door and B'Elanna jumped straight in the air. "Come on, B'Elanna, we are going to be late for practice!" A voice screamed from outside.

B'Elanna shot off her bed and began digging through the piles of stuff on her floor. Her roommate T'Lara sat across the room, looking as smug as a Vulcan ever got. She was always telling B'Elanna that her untidiness would be a problem. Actually, she said that untidiness was illogical and unproductive. Grabbing her track uniform and shoes, she tossed them into a duffel bag and charged out the door.

"About time. Hurry up, the transport is activating in 5 minutes. The operator won't be pleased if we're late and coach will give us extra laps." Tam explained as they hurried down the corridors. Tam was a petite Chinese human that B'Elanna had met during track. Tam was one of the few people that could almost match B'Elanna for endurance. Many people could run as fast as B'Elanna, but very few that ran as long as she could. Tam's easy-going-take-everything-in-stride manner directly contrasted with B'Elanna's manner. Which is why she and B'Elanna were such good friends. Tam helped B'Elanna keep her temper in check and B'Elanna made sure people didn't take advantage of Tam. Tam had been a little wild before she entered the Academy and gotten into some illegal stuff. Nothing big, she had gotten her life straightened out and entered the Academy. By mutual agreement, B'Elanna and Tam didn't much discuss their lives before the Academy. The both knew each had done things they regretted.

Running through the hallway, they made it just in time. They jumped into place just before the operator activated the beam.

"Torres, Lee, nice of you to show up." The coach said as they appeared on the track. B'Elanna and Tam had never quite figured out what species or mix of species their coach was. It didn't matter to them, though, he was a good coach and most of all, and he was fair. Unlike so many other professors, he never picked on anyone because they were different.

When B'Elanna arrived back to her dorm, she found it in quite a different state of that when she left. The clothes and other items that been strewn throughout her half were now neatly put away. Her bed was perfectly made.

"T'Lara, you didn't have to do this." B'Elanna called without thinking. She regretted that when she glanced over to see T'Lara snap out of the meditative state she was in. T'Lara slowly brought her hands down from their position palms together in front of her face. Then she replied telling B'Elanna that her method was illogical so she had made it more logical.

Sometimes T'Lara could make B'Elanna absolutely furious. Her calm manner could be so irritating. Sometimes there would be a huge test or paper and T'Lara never even seemed a bit nervous. It was almost inhuman. B'Elanna swore T'Lara never had a bad day, not even a bad hair day. Her dark, coarse boyish hair was never out of place. Nothing about T'Lara was ever out of place, she was so close to perfect as possible. It drove B'Elanna up a wall.

"My parents will be arriving at 17 hundred hours tomorrow. Are you expecting any visitors?" T'Lara said in the standard dull Vulcan monotone, just to change the subject.

The question caught B'Elanna by surprise. It took her a moment before she remembered tomorrow was Parents Day at the Academy. "No." She replied quickly and went to go shower. There was no way she was going to try and explain her family to a Vulcan who had spent so little time around humans…and other species.

After a quick shower, B'Elanna began yanking a brush through her now shoulder length hair. After arriving on earth, she had cut her hair in one final act of defiance against her mother. She thought her short hair made her look much less Klingon.

After slipping into some comfortable clothes, B'Elanna sat down with a padd. If she was ever going to pass interstellar history, she was going to have to start studying tonight for the final next week. 

***

What you own is your own kingdom,

What you do is your own glory,

What you love is your own power,

What you live is your own story,

In your head is the answer,

Let it guide you along,

Let your heart be the anchor,

And the beat of your own song.

-Rush

-2112

***

CRASH!!

Tom and half the students in the cafeteria looked up from their lunches at the sound.

Tom quickly located the source of the sound. It had come from the section of the cafeteria were the 1st year cadets ate.

What looked like a girl of about 18 was facing a boy her age, fists tightly clenched.

Her back was to Tom and he leaned forward to get a better look.

"Tom, let's get out of here." One of his two best friends, Darren Hawking, spoke up, standing.

"But it's a fight." Tom protested. And it was. Tom knew a fight status when he saw one. 

"Yeah, I know." Darren sounded disappointed-he, too, wanted to stay. "But Professor T'Mor gets angry when we're late."

"Darren." Tom turned to look at his friend. "Professor T'Mor is Vulcan…she _can't_ get angry." 

Darren shuffled his feet. "No, but she can give us another report about the life span of a targ or…"

Yelling cut him off.

Both cadets whipped around. The fight between the girl and the guy was now underway.

Tom settled in, ready for a fight, ready to see who would come out the victor. He had all his money on the girl, though he didn't know why. Maybe it was because she seemed to be winning at the moment.

"Tom." Darren said, though he didn't sound like he wanted to go. "Who do you think will win?" He finally asked, caving. He took a spot beside Tom.

"Defiantly the girl." Tom responded, trying to get a better look.

They were further away than everyone else, and Tom wished he were taller. Darren was, however, and he just had to get up on his toes to see.

"You may be right." He said. "She looks pretty tough."

Tom tried to get a better look by getting up on a table, and a few others followed his example. But he still couldn't see what the girl looked like.

Just as the fight was getting good, security guards rushed in and broke it up, causing moans and complaints from the spectators.

As Tom was climbing down from the table, he noticed the side of the girl as the guards led her past. She had shoulder length dark brown hair and was quite tall. Tom thought she looked very exotic, almost beautiful, for a 1st year cadet and wondered how he could find out her name, something that quickly disappeared from his thoughts when he realized she probably wasn't his type. She looked tough, but then again, she had also just gotten into a fight, so she was sweaty and probably worn out. From where Tom was standing, he noticed her forehead looked a little big for a human.

Tom dismissed it and noticed that her eyes had wandered and that they were looking directly at him.

He smiled and looked away, as she was taken out of the cafeteria.

"First year at the Academy and she already gets in a fight?" Darren chuckled. 

"She'll never make it." 

"You're going to France?" Kevin asked when Tom announced the news to his roommate.

Tom laughed. "Just the response I expected from you." He looked up from his packing. "Yes, I'm going to France. Marseilles, actually. They've got a physical training base out there and Darren and I volunteered to go."

"Well, I wish you'd have let me in on it." Kevin muttered, approaching the replicator. "Root beer." The replicator hummed and a glass of root beer appeared.

"Hey, it's not going to be so bad." Tom pointed out. "Think of it, no roommate for an entire semester. You get it all to yourself."

Kevin cocked his head. "Hm. Good can come of this. Unfortunately, I'm not going to be here, either."

"Where are you going?"

"Venus."

Tom nodded. "Nice place. Great atmospheric storms."

"I'm not going for the storms. They've got a need for engineers. I'm going in response to that need. But it's only for a few months."

The chime to the dorm beeped.

"Come in." Tom called.

Darren entered, grinning. "You ready?"

Tom swung his duffel bag over his shoulder. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Marseilles sure wasn't what Tom had expected. It looked like California, only…more old looking.

On the way over, he had brushed up on its history. There wasn't a lot on it, it pretty much went along with the rest of history. On thing Tom found interesting was that it was a major resistance city during WWIII. Other than that, Tom didn't know why he bothered reading about it. But it made time pass more quickly.

After Darren and Tom received their form assignments, they had time to look around the city. Finding the city a bit crowded, the two headed for the outskirts of Marseilles.

They found a small bar called Chez Sanderine and decided to go in.

The bar was brick and Tom knew it was old when he saw the ancient fireplace in the corner, and an authentic pool table in the middle of the almost empty bar. There was no replicator, just a wet bar to the left of the entrance and Tom felt like he was in heaven.

"Monsieur's, welcome to Chez Sanderine." A woman approached them, smiling. "I am Claire Sanderine, the owner of this great establishment." Tom smiled politely. Claire had a thick French accent and the words sound very together and nicely accented.

"Tom Paris. And this is Darren Hawking." Tom held out his hand and Claire took it. "We're staying at the Starfleet physical training center in Marseilles."

"Oh, yes, I get a lot of customers from there." Claire smiled. "Please, help yourselves to anything you please."

Tom looked at the pool table, then at Darren. "You want to play?"

Darren, who was already inspecting the cue, looked up and nodded.

Tom grinned. He was defiantly going to like it here.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**Now**

****

"What do you mean we can't get our systems back on line?" Janeway demanded angrily, glaring at the black viewscreen.

She heard Z'Mor sigh. "Captain, the Demori have stolen your on line systems. Your ship will loose you artificial gravity in two hours and your life support systems in 4. At least you're still alive. You should be grateful we came along and pulled you into our territory."

Chakotay rubbed his eyes, feeling tired. "That still doesn't explain why we can't get our-"

"Listen, young man." Z'Mor snapped, as if talking to a child. "You've got no weapons, no way of maneuvering. You'd be fighting blind. You'd be destroyed before you even saw them."

"Do you know who we could get our systems back?" Janeway retorted, not feeling to happy with their 'rescuers' at the moment.

"Well, yes. But its not going to work. Nor will you agree to it, I'm afraid."

Janeway looked over at Tuvok, who nodded. "Like it or not, I'd like to hear it." She commanded.

"You must destroy their ship." Z'Mor said simply.

In the back, Kim, who had returned from Engineering, groaned. Janeway knew why-it was impossible without weapons, warp or impulse power, initial dampers, and shields. She looked at Chakotay, who shook his head.

At that moment, the turbolift doors flew open and 7 of 9 tumbled to the ground. Tuvok was quickly by her side, helping her up. Besides being bruised and battered, she didn't seem to bad off, and kept her cool, calm manner.

Janeway turned and looked at her. "Are you alright?"

"I am…fine, Captain. However, I do wish to know what has happened."

Janeway explained (with a few interruptions from Z'Mor) and waited for 7 to respond. 

"The Demori." She commented.

"You know of them?" Chakotay wanted to know.

"A Borg cube encountered a single ship that had drifted from its sector. They attempted to drain the cube's power. They were unsuccessful."

"Were they assimilated?" Tuvok asked.

"Yes."

"So you know about some of their systems. Weapons, warp drive capabilities-"

7 cut Kim off. "I am equipped with that knowledge, yes."

Janeway was smiling. "7, you're alcove has not lost power, has it?"

"No captain." 7 cocked her head. "Am I assuming you have a plan?"

"You assumed right. Z'Mor, we have an idea and we need your help."

"What is taking them so long?" B'Elanna growled, glaring at the doors.

"Is it just me, or is it getting a little hot in here?" Tom asked, ignoring her question.

"It's just you." B'Elanna snapped, although Tom could see she looked hotter than normal. "Environmental controls are out." She finally muttered, glancing down at her tricorder. 

"Oh." There were a few minutes of silence that passed between them. What was going on up on the bridge?! Tom wished he had some way to communicate with the Captain.

He stared down at the dark console in front of him and started to turn away when he noticed a small green flashing dot in the corner. Hesitating, he pushed it. A long line of green lines filled the console.

It was Borg.

"B'Elanna, check this out."

B'Elanna walked over and she frowned as she ran her tricorder over the console. "Defiantly Borg." She concluded. "They must have a plan. Either that or 7's trying to take over _Voyager_ again."

Tom rolled his eyes. "You really don't like her, do you?"

B'Elanna scowled. "She reminds me too much of a Vulcan."

"Not exactly your favorite species, huh?"

"My roommate at the Academy was a Vulcan. She drove me crazy." She fingered a few things on her tricorder and sighed. "This would normally take about an hour to decipher." She sighed again. "But without the proper equipment, it'll take a whole lot longer."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

****

"Cadet Torres, please inform us of the date of the launching of the original Enterprise under the command of Captain Robert April." Professor S'Korn asked from the front of the room.

B'Elanna was certain he was secretly torturing her, but his Vulcan poker face never wavered. "Ah…um…" B'Elanna stumbled for a response. She hated Vulcans, they were so perfect and…logical. Glancing at the clock, she saw it ticking off the mere seconds before she could leave and avoid further embarrassment.

"Cadet, your answer, please." The passive Vulcan pressed. B'Elanna heard some snickers behind her and knew that she would never be able to live any of this down, ever. "Cadet?" S'Korn asked again.

Damn, he could be so annoying. He was the hardest professor at the Academy besides Admiral Paris, whom B'Elanna had the liberty of never meeting. The difference between the two was that every cadet had to take interstellar history but most cadets could avoid Admiral Paris' class.

The bell rang and every cadet was heading for the doors, and S'Korn stood up from his seat and faced the class. "Cadet Torres, can I see you for a moment. Everyone else is excused." He said, looking straight at B'Elanna. Sighing, she collected her belongings and moved forward to Professor S'Korn's desk.

"Cadet Torres, your progress has been unsatisfactory. You could not answer my question in class and you scored the lowest in the class on your midterm." He paused, letting it sink in. "I have a third year cadet who is also having the same problem. I will discuss it with him and if he is willing, I will give the two of you a chance to work together on a project so you can pass this class." After informing her of her status, he turned away abruptly, ending the conversation, and giving her no chance to argue.

B'Elanna hated lunch time, but this year was more tolerable than last year, since Dylan had refused to talk to her since that last incident and Tam had her lunch this year. Grabbing a tray of food, she sat down at a table. Moments later, Tam joined her. "Hey B'Elanna. What's wrong?" She asked when she saw her friend's face.

"Professor S'Korn decided I needed to do an extra project with some 3rd year cadet." B'Elanna sighed. She wasn't exactly looking forward to her grade depending on the corporation of some twenty-year-old hormone crazed pig.

"Oh, that bad, huh?" Tam said in response to the sour look on B'Elanna's face. "What are you going to do?"

"Probably the same thing I did with all the guys I worked with on the home-Q'nos. Sleep with him so he'll corporate."

Tam hated it when her friend thought so little of herself. Sometimes B'Elanna acted as though what happened to her was really unimportant, as though she cared nothing for herself. The one thing Tam had learned about B'Elanna was that it was not a good idea to provoke her into an argument if you valued life and limb. With a sigh, Tam changed to much less controversial subject: the upcoming decathlon.

T'Nya was not having a good day. Her boyfriend of two years had left her and she was failing two classes. This morning, her mom, via an interstellar transmission, had told her that she would no longer pay her tuition to the Academy. What T'Nya really wanted was a good stiff drink, but she couldn't have one, due to the fact that drinking before going to a class was illegal on Academy grounds, and next she had a basic communication class. Maybe a fight would be almost as good, she decided. Singling out her victim, she headed over to a table where two-second year girls were hunched over, deep in conversation.

B'Elanna was so engrossed in hearing the latest gossip from Tam that she didn't notice the burly Bolian until the girl's fist connected with her jaw. B'Elanna jumped straight up into the air and spun around, knocking her chair over in the process. The girl had surprised her, usually B'Elanna got some type of warning before a fight-but not this time.

B'Elanna sat in the dean's office. It wasn't the first time she'd been there. She reached her hand up to rub the sore spot on her jaw, but lowered it when she saw the sticky blue Bolian blood still remaining on her hand. She sight made her kind of sick to her stomach. She had lost control of her temper and beat the other cadet up pretty badly.

"Cadet Torres." The elderly dean growled as she stomped into her office. Dean Maria Thompson was rather elderly, and looked like she was about to retire any day. "A broken jaw, fractured clavicle, three broken ribs, a large gash along the right eye…what I'd like to know, Cadet, is what happened. Why did 4th Class Cadet T'Nya Samoian end up in the hospital and you walk away with only a few bruises?" Dean Thompson was almost yelling. She continued to fire rapid questions at B'Elanna for twenty minutes before she calmed down enough to begin lecturing her. Taking out a padd, she laid it out on her desk and took a deep breath.

"Cadet, these bar room brawls are unacceptable behavior for an aspiring Starfleet officer. I can see this is not the first time, either. I just don't see what the pattern is. Fights after aggravations, arguing with professors, Ms. Torres, if these incidents were isolated occasions, it might be excusable, but barley a week has gone by that an addition to your permanent record has not been made. I'm just not sure Starfleet is the right place for you." Thompson paused. B'Elanna was beginning to feel really mad. She had worked for years to get into the Academy, and even ran away from home, just to get into the Academy. And now she was getting kicked out because she had got into some fights with a few racists students, and she'd had few arguments with some teachers. "Now, I'm not expelling you this time, but I would like you to really consider if Starfleet is where you belong. I'm sure on Q'Nos they accept this kind of behavior, but in Starfleet-" 

The Dean tried to continue, but B'Elanna cut her off.

"If you knew anything about Klingons, you'd know that they wouldn't accept me. That is why I came here, to get away from the hate and racism, but it seems to have followed. You are right about one thing, though. The Academy and your precious Starfleet are not the place for me." B'Elanna cried, then stormed out of the office, slamming the door. Her outburst scared the timid Betazoid secretary sitting at the desk so bad she must have jumped three feet into the air.

B'Elanna stomped all the way to her dorm. When she arrived, she began throwing the few meager processions she owned into a duffel bag. Tomorrow she would get everything worked out with the main office. If things went as they should, she could be in her way by Sunday.

After throwing all of her civilian clothes into a bag, she walked over to her desk and began throwing some padds into her bag. One in particular caught her eye. Quickly, she accessed the file and began reading.

**Commander Paul Torres**

**Species: Human**

**Field: Geological Science**

**Age: 46 earth years**

**Marital Status: Married, divorced, remarried**

**Descendants: B'Elanna Torres, 17 (Daughter of D'Elaine Torres), Michael Torres, 13, Shannon Torres, 8, Noel Torres, 5 (Children of Helen Torres)**

**Commander Torres was married first to a Klingon woman by the name of D'Elaine of the house of Dursa. This short union produced one daughter (B'Elanna Torres). Shortly Torres and D'Elaine were divorced and he remarried to Helen Lindsay. His second marriage produced three offspring (Michael Torres, Shannon Torres, Noel Torres). Paul Torres is currently posted under Captain Helen Torres on the U.S.S. _BEE_ on a 10-year deep space geological survey mission. The U.S.S. _BEE _is expected to arrive back to earth in 8-years.**

**End of transmission.**

B'Elanna couldn't believe it, she was reading the information she had downloaded over two years ago when she had first arrived on earth. Gods, that seemed like ages ago.

Her father's bio explained a lot to her, mainly why he never wrote or visited. He had moved on with his life and started a new family. Not only did he desert her, but he also completely forgot about her. Now she wished she had never read her father's bio, it was like pouring salt into an open cut. B'Elanna quickly deleted the single file on the padd and laid it down on the desk. For the past fourteen turbulent years she had carried around the hope that her father missed her terribly but couldn't get to her. It was a fantasy she had indulged in for as far back as she could remember. In a few minutes, her dream was destroyed and her fantasy world came crashing down on her with fantastic bang. She was all alone with no where to go and no where to stay. She didn't know where to turn to, but she knew she couldn't stay were she was. She had to leave. She had started a cycle of running away from her problems and it had become way too comfortable for her. If you can't beat them, and can't join them, might as well run. 

***

Counting every moment

Biding all my time

Standing out here on my own

Searching for that someone

To heal this heart of mine

And keep me from being alone

But when will it be

And how will I know

I don't want to wait here forever 

-Somebody Love Me

-By: Michael W. Smith

***

"Mr. Paris, please inform the class of what date the Federation first made contact with Klingons."

The question or comment was more like it, made Tom feel about two inches big. Professor S'Korn always seemed to know how to do that. Then again, Vulcans always made Tom feel two inches big. They always seemed to know more than everyone else did.

Tom racked his mind for the answer. He knew the answer, he knew it! He suddenly wished he remembered more from when he was little. Back then, he knew everything about Klingons. He tried to come up with a suitable answer, but found himself staring at the professor in dumb confusion.

"You have no response." S'Korn said blandly.

"No sir." Tom replied and sat down. He heard snickers coming from the back of the class and he sighed.

"Does anyone else know the correct answer?" S'Korn asked and about 98% of the class raised their hands. Tom felt like dying. Especially when he heard the answer.

_I knew that!_ He told himself.

He was failing Interstellar History and knew it. He had put off the class since joining the Academy, but gave in and signed up for the course. It was more trouble than it was worth.

Who needed to know all the stuff S'Korn talked about? Tom wanted to be a pilot, not a historian.

"Cadet Paris, might I have a word with you?" S'Korn's annoying bland voice stopped Tom three feet in front of the door at the end of class. He turned around, hesitated, than nodded. 

"What's up?" He asked, going to the Professor's desk.

S'Korn turned his desktop monitor to Tom so that he could see. Each assignment was listed, along with how many points possible for each one. There must have been 10 assignments on the screen. Tom had turned in two.

He felt the blood rush to his cheeks. He glanced at S'Korn, who watched him carefully. This was not good.

"As you can see, Cadet Paris, you have turned two out of ten assignments that I have assigned the class. Do you have an explanation for this?"

Tom tried to come up with an excuse, any excuse, but found none. "No sir." He replied miserably.

If S'Korn was human, he would have sighed. Instead, he merely raised an eyebrow. "Cadet Paris, I understand that your father is a highly respected man here at Starfleet. Is that correct?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

S'Korn nodded once. "Than you know that many professors here use that to give you a passing grade." Tom felt the ground drop out from under him. He stood in stunned surprise, which slowly cycled into anger. That explained why he was passing certain classes he knew he normally wouldn't do well in. He knew not all his classes, but maybe 2 or 3. S'Korn continued. "I, however, will not succumb to that policy." He handed Tom a padd. "I have decided to give you a chance to make some extra credit. One of my 2nd year students also has the same problem. For credit, I would like it if the two of you would work on the project I have described on the padd."

Tom stared down at the padd, though not really seeing it. Extra credit project? With a 2nd year student? Had S'Korn gone mad?

The Vulcan stood up. "The two of you will begin Monday. You are dismissed."

Tom walked out in the hall. He stood there for several minutes, staring at the padd. The hall became clear of kids and Tom was left alone in the hall.

On Sunday, Kevin returned from break. He had gone to Bajor, which was now trying to rebuild its colonies.

When he entered the dorm, he found Tom sitting on his bed, staring at a padd in silence.

"Something wrong?" Kevin asked, throwing down his duffel bag.

"I'm failing Interstellar History." Tom's voice sounded a little odd, and Kevin frowned.

"That's it?"

"S'Korn is making me a project with a 2nd year cadet. About…" He checked his padd. "The adventures of Captain James Kirk and the U.S.S. _ENTERPRISE."_He tossed the padd on the bedside table. "Why am I ever going to need that?"

Kevin shrugged. "I don't know. But I do know that it's not going to be a boring project." He sat down. "James Kirk is pretty interesting to learn about."

Tom grumbled something and stood up. "I'm going out. You want to come?"

Kevin shook his head. "No, you go ahead. I'm going to take a nap."

Tom didn't say anything, just sulked out of the dorm.

The grounds of Starfleet Academy never looked so dull and gray, despite the Californian sun that made the day very hot.

Tom was miserable.

All that time he thought he was doing well in, say, Exochemistry, he actually wasn't. It was the professors who were scared of his father. Tom had thought about it all Saturday and most of that day. 

Why didn't he see it? Was he really so blind? Was all he really cared about girls and his reputation? All that got him this and Tom was just realizing it.

He and this partner of his had better do well on this stupid project. He was going to prove to S'Korn that he could get something done right. Besides, maybe this 2nd year student wouldn't be so bad.

"Watch out!"

Tom jerked his head up at the call, only to see ancient flying disc come hurtling toward his head, then blackness.

Tom awoke with a groan. He opened his eyes and blinked, only to be looking up at the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She had long red hair and bright green eyes, and a figure that was perfect for someone like her. She stared down at him, eyes concerned.

"Are you all right?" She asked, helping him up.

Tom nodded, rubbing his head where the frisbee hit. He was in the Academy's medical bay. He looked at the girl. "Yeah, I'm fine." He held out his hand. "Tom Paris."

She shook it. "I'm really sorry about hitting you. I had no idea it would go in that direction…"

"I'm fine, really." Tom grinned. "What's your name?"

The girl blushed. "I'm sorry. I'm kind of forgetful. My names Casey Brown."

"Ah, good, you're up." A new voice broke in. The Academy's physician, Dr. Anna Peterson, walked in, carrying a medical tricorder. "It's a good thing that the frisbee didn't hit the side of your brain." She turned to Casey. "Why on earth were you using such an ancient piece of entertainment, anyway?"

"Well, I-" 

"Hey, Anna!" Dr. Peterson looked up. One of the Dean's secretaries had entered the bay. "Do you have the medical files of the Torres girl?"

Peterson frowned. "Yeah. I think they're somewhere in my computer bank. Why?"

"I don't know. The Dean wants them."

"OK, I'll get them. Really, I've never seen one person in here more than Torres…"

"Tom, if there's anything you need…" Casey was saying.

"Sure." Tom smiled at her. "I'd like it if you agreed to have lunch with me. My treat."

Casey grinned. "I'd love to."

"OK Professor, I'm here. Where's my partner?"

S'Korn looked up as Tom walked into the class. "Ah, Cadet, I'm glad you've decided to arrive." Tom was 15 minutes late.

"Sorry, I stayed up late last night. Uh, I didn't get very much sleep." Tom felt slightly embarrassed. In truth, he stayed overnight at Casey's and he was sure S'Korn knew that by the look on the Vulcans face.

But he seemed like he cared. "You're partner will not be joining you."

"He sick?"

"No. _She_, Cadet, has left the Academy. Therefore, you will continue on the project alone."

Tom ended up doing the whole project by himself.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

****

B'Elanna wasn't sure how she had ended up on Kaladan III. She wanted to get away from Starfleet and the Starfleet/Cardassian border was about as far as she could go. Everyone had told her not to go there, but she had gone, she had run.

She had found a job at Patarin's, a little run down café. The harassment didn't stop, but it was more tolerable from a bunch of untrained morons than from the 'civilized' Starfleet. 

There was a dark alley behind the café, where B'Elanna would often go back there and sit by herself during her breaks. If she sat there long enough, people would forget about her, and she could forget about other people.

"Torres, get your cute little ass back in here." Patarin growled. He was a crude uncivilized Bajoran man. He was overweight and constantly looked like he needed a good shower. When B'Elanna first saw Patarin, he looked like a complete pervert. He had done nothing but prove her right during the two months she had worked for him.

Walking towards the door, she tried to pull down the immensely short skirt that Patarin required his waitresses to wear. "Come on Torres, get the lead out of it, people are asking for you." Patarin called to her. B'Elanna hated her job, but it paid her rent (barely). Grabbing some menu padds, she headed back to work. She was greeted by a wave of whispers and whistles. 

It had been a long day. Patarin had told her off because some customer had complained she wasn't 'friendly' enough. All she wanted to do now was get drunk. Quickly, she counted up her tips to see if she had enough for a few strong drinks. After she took out the money for groceries, she had just enough.

As she headed out the door, something startled her. It sounded like the cry of a young girl. It frightened B'Elanna, but something compelled her to travel farther into the darkened alley.

Her Starfleet training kicked in without thought as she crept down the road. Adrenaline was pulsing through her body and her heart was beating so loudly that was sure people could hear it all the way back on earth. Ducking behind some transport containers, she spied a Cardassian man kicking what looked to be pile of clothing. After a moment, B'Elanna realized it wasn't a pile of clothing at all, but a young girl, the source of the cry. B'Elanna's Klingon side urged her to run to the girl, but her reasonable human half convinced herself to wait the man (if he could be called that) out. Cardassians, on the whole, were fickle people.

True to his species, the Cardassian got fed up after a few minutes. As soon as she was sure the Cardassian was gone, B'Elanna rushed to the girl. When she reached the girl she wished she had taken a field medic class.

The girl was badly beaten, but when B'Elanna looked closely, she could see that the girl must have been absolutely beautiful. Her hair that once must have been a brilliant auburn was now thickly coated in blood and sweat. Her face that was now enveloped in a dark layer of purplish bruises and bloody cuts looked as though once it would have been the color of pale cream. Her lips would have been not quite thin but not overly thick if for the enormously swollen spots. Her earring was lying on the ground next to her. The girl looked maybe 15 or 16, but small for her age and very under nourished. Her clothing was torn and B'Elanna was pretty sure she been raped. The worst thing of all was the girl was still conscious. B'Elanna had once heard Cardassians used stimulants to keep their victims awake while they tortured them, but she didn't believe it, until now, that is.

"Where are the profits now?" The girl mumbled over and over again. When B'Elanna reached down to touch the girl, she shrunk away from her hand. 

B'Elanna had never been very good at offering maternal type comfort but she tried her hardest now.

When the girl seemed to calm down somewhat B'Elanna carefully picked her up and began to run. For once B'Elanna was grateful for the Klingon in her which provided her with the strength to carry the girl to the emergency medical care facility up the street a ways.

The facility reminded B'Elanna of the many she had visited on the Q'Nos for birth control and minor bone mending. Upon her entrance, a Bajoran Doctor greeted her and helped her get the girl onto a bio-bed.

"OK, we are going to need payment now before we can begin." The Doctor told B'Elanna.

"What?" B'Elanna asked, confused.

"You're a friend of hers right? We get so many of these 'types' in here everyday. We can't afford to treat them unless we get payment up front." The Doctor explained.

"No, I just found her in an alley."

"Nurse, prepare one dose NZ3." He sighed.

B'Elanna had heard of NZ3 at the Academy. It was a drug issued to anyone entering a situation where they might be tortured for information. After the drug entered the body, all brain function ceased in less than one second. The patient would be dead in less than 2 minutes.

"Wait." B'Elanna cried, grabbing the padd the Doctor held out for her. Pressing her thumb to it she initiated the transfer of her entire account over to the hospital. Then from her jacket she pulled out her tips. She handed the money over the doctor, reserving enough for a meal and shuttle ticket. Where she was going she didn't need money. Rumor had it there was a large Maquis resistance group right here on Kaladan III. The Maquis were always desperate for help with their cause, maybe they could use another hand.

***

Father of mine

Tell me where have you been

You know I just closed my eyes

My whole world disappeared

Father of mine

Take me back to the day

When I was still your golden boy

Back before you went away

-Father of Mine

-Everclear

***

Caldick Prime. Your basic M-Class Federation Planet. It was, however, also where they sent Academy students to perform fight tactics for the fighter squadrons.

It was also where Tom and Darren were stationed for such a mission. Tom was the leader in the maneuvers, and would have to make sure everything went smoothly. Each ship held two people in it, a pilot and a com officer/recorder. 

The training began at 08:00 hours in the morning, standard earth time.

Tom boarded his shuttle, the _Avenger, _and took his spot behind the helm. The _Avenger _wasn't the name the ship came with, which had been the _Orca, _so Tom had changed it to fit his taste. It was your standard two person Academy fighter, shaped, in Tom's mind, like the head of a vacuum cleaner. There was one small window in the front so that the cadets could see out and its fastest speed was warp 2.

"Caldick Prime reports we're clear for departure." The acting com officer/reporter, 2nd Class Cadet Brian Robinson, spoke up, sounding acting jumpy.

Tom rolled his eyes. He had begged and pleaded with the fighter squadron leader not to allow 1 and 2nd class cadets under command. They were just so damn annoying and jumpy all the time. But the General insisted on having at least one capable 2nd year cadet on the shuttle. Tom had agreed reluctantly, as long as it was only one. Now he wished he had fought it harder. 

Tom acknowledged that he heard Brian and fired thrusters, and felt the _Avenger _raise into the air, the other shuttles following. 

They broke through the atmosphere and into the vast darkness of space. Tom checked sensors and propulsion, making sure everything was working correctly.

"All shuttles, prepare for the Diamond Slot Formation." He told the other shuttles.

The ships responded and Tom turned back to Brian. "I need the calculations for the Orion Fire."

Brian's eyes widened. "But-"

"Don't argue, just do it!" Tom snapped. 

The Orion Fire was a very sophisticated maneuver only preformed by the best fighter squadrons in Starfleet. It consisted of the squadron taking some very serious diving maneuvers, then pulling up and forming in a complete circle, all the while, criss-crossing between the other ships. If the maneuver were done correctly, the whole team would survive, but if there was even the slightest mistake, the whole team could be killed. It wasn't exactly forbidden from the Academy because no Academy squadron had ever tried it, but Tom had confidence in his squadron, and was sure they could pull it off, being the first squadron in the history of the Academy to actually achieve the Orion Fire.

After about 15 minutes, Tom and other two ships that flew with him, finished their routine patterns, and began to show off before they headed back to base. Tom quickly informed them what he wanted to do and they agreed. 

"Cadet Robinson! Are you done with the calculations?"

"Uh, well, um, here." A padd appeared on the console next to Tom. Tom glanced down at it. 

"That's not right." He snapped. "You didn't calculate for the shuttle speed."

Brian blushed and grabbed the padd. "There." He handed it back.

Tom frowned. Was this kid a complete idiot? He moved his hand and tapped a few more commands. "There. Send the calculations to the other shuttles."

Brian quickly went back to his console and sent it out.

"You guys receive that?" Tom asked.

There was a positive response from the other 2 ships and they were ready to go.

What happened next never quite made sense to Tom.

Everything was going fine, until Tom looked out the window. The two ships were on a direct course for each other.

"Darren!" Tom yelled into the com-system to Darren's ship. "Pull up!"

"I can't!" Darren's frightened voice rang out. "The calculations are already filtered into the computer system-propulsion just went off line! I'm leaking antimatter!"

Tom felt something in his throat. "Prepare for emergency beam-out!" He turned to Brian. "I don't care how you do it, get them out of those shuttles!"

Brian's hand flew over the console as Tom sent out a distress signal to Caldick's Prime squadron base. "I only have enough power-"

"Reroute anything you can to transporters except helm control, thrusters…and tractor beam." Tom's hands flew over the console, rerouting the tractor beam to helm control. He activated it and moved closer to the two on-coming shuttles. 

Frantic voices filtered through the com-system. They were coming in awfully fast…

Before Tom knew what happened, there was a huge explosion.

Tom was on his feet, mouth open. "Did we…"

"I managed to retrieve an operation officer from Cadet Jalack's shuttle." Brain gasped.

Tom stared at the floating debris outside his window. 

His best friend…had been killed. By a 2nd year student. Tom felt tears well up in his eyes as an emergency vessel approached the _Avenger._ Nothing could stop the boiling anger towards Brian that Tom felt at that very minute.

Tom realized he was clutching something. It was the padd with the calculations on it.

Through blurry eyes, Tom noticed something that chilled him to the bone.

He, Thomas Eugene Paris, had killed Darren. The calculation he had added to Brian's had caused the ships to collide. He had added a little altitude calculation that caused his best friend and two other cadets to hadn't done anything, to die.

The calculation Brian had made before Tom 'corrected' it had been right.

Tom heard Brian crying and the emergency vessel hailing them. But Brian made no move to respond. Tom knew why. Brian thought he was the cause of the accident.

For a split second, Tom considered comforting Brian and telling the kid it had been Tom's fault.

Instead, Tom reached his finger up and pressed the erase button. The two calculations Tom had made Brian change disappeared. No one would ever know.

Tom graduated the Academy a few months later. His parents had been overjoyed.

Tom felt miserable.

A lot had happened since the accident. Brian Robinson had been suspended for a semester for causing homicide. Tom stood by and let the poor kid get the punishment, something Tom should have gotten. He felt so guilty, but didn't speak up.

Tom made a full report, keeping out the calculation parts. The Academy saw him as a hero. So did the other 4th year cadets. He scored with his girlfriend, Jessica Parks. He even got a position as a helm officer on the Federation ship U.S.S. _Exter_because the captain liked 'an honest man'. That didn't make Tom feel any better.

But none of that made Tom happy (except for Jessica). He felt guilty and would spend a lot of time in his quarters on the _Exter__, _rethinking everything about that day. 

Nights were terrible. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Darren, as if he were actually on board Darren's shuttle at the moment of impact. Or he would see Darren and the other two that had died as corpses, angry and yelling at him.

Those nightmares lasted for a month. Finally, Tom had had enough. He left the _Exter_and went back to earth. There, he marched into Starfleet Headquarters and turned himself in.

Starfleet was shocked. It was in the papers for weeks, and a trial was issued right away.

But Tom really didn't care at that point. He felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He knew he was doing the right thing, and if Darren were alive, he probably would have been very proud of his friend.

But something was nagging at Tom. If he hadn't turned himself in, he would have gotten off scott free and enjoyed a great career in Starfleet. But who knew what would happen now?

"Guilty."

Tom's head shot up to look at the judge. He was staring down at Tom, eyes hard and uncaring.

"The jury has decided that Ensign Thomas Eugene Paris be striped of rank and cashiered out of Starfleet for the degree of homicide, falsifying reports, and lying to your superior officer. Effective…immediately."

Tom felt the earth disappear. Cashiered out of Starfleet? He wanted to cry, but stayed standing, gradually accepting the verdict.

He turned around, only to see his parents. His mom was crying softly, her turning gray with old age.

Tom's eyes wandered from his mom to his dad, who stood in the back of the courtroom. Their eyes met and Tom suddenly saw his entire life flash before his eyes, mostly about his dad. Yet none of them were very happy times.

His dad never looked so old as he did now, standing by that wall. He looked liked he had gained some weight since the last time Tom saw him. He also looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep since the trial began. But Tom could understand, neither had he.

Tom took a deep breath and walked outside. The Headquarters also had a fountain, and Tom thought oddly about how it must have been some sort of symbol for all Starfleet buildings.

He stared at the water, and felt tears rise up again. He was no longer a Starfleet officer. He'd been stripped of rank, even if it was just the rank of Ensign. He'd been stripped of his dream.

"Tom."

He recognized the voice before he saw his father hurling towards him. Tom wanted to break into a run and never stop, but simply waited until his father was face to face with his son.

"Can I help you?" Tom asked, not really meaning for the question to come out sounding sarcastic, but if did anyway.

"Don't get that kind of attitude with me, young man." Admiral Paris snapped. 

"You've disgraced out family name. From the moment you turned yourself in you disgraced us. You mother, your sisters…me." 

Tom remained quiet. He knew his father was angry, but didn't want to encourage his anger by speaking.

"By doing that," Paris continued. "You've ceased to be a Paris."

That was it. Tom glared at his father, anger boiling. "I thought I would care." He said. To his surprise, he actually said it gently. "But I don't. Maybe you should have told me that a few years ago, when I really did cease to be your son." And Tom struck gold. His father turned bright red. Tom knew it. He had always known it. His father was only happy with him because he was a Starfleet officer, like his father. Because his father thought Tom would follow in his footsteps. His sisters weren't any help to the Admiral-they'd gone off and did their own thing, not joined Starfleet.

_But now I'm not in Starfleet either._ He thought, and he smiled inwardly. He was free to do whatever he wanted.

Then Admiral Owen Paris opened his mouth. "I'm ashamed of myself, Tom. Ashamed that I've somehow managed to raise a so little sense of morality or basic judgment." He said it so calmly, so cultured, that Tom shuddered. Admiral Paris nodded once and walked away to Mrs. Paris.

"Yeah." Tom whispered, nodding his head. "Yeah."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**Now**

****

Ensign Harry Kim never knew Engineering could look so dark.

It was spooky and Kim wished he had something to work with, or that Janeway requested he stay on the bridge. But neither one worked at the moment. He knew the plan, and had to relay the information to the Engineering team.

Kim kept looking towards the door, waiting for Tom to walk in. But nothing happened.

So, Kim was now basically trapped in Engineering with everyone else. Not to mention, it was getting hotter with every passing moment.

Suddenly, something made Kim look up. He wasn't quite sure what it was, though. A slight noise from the lower deck. He moved toward the glass part and peered down, trying to see through the darkness.

A flash of light, and it wasn't a palm beacon. It looked like phaser fire. Then he heard some strange voices. A voice he recognized. It was the automated voice of the Demori. They were _on Voyager. _

Kim gulped, not feeling very good all of a sudden. He was pretty sure the rest of the engineering crew, hell, the rest of the crew maybe, was stunned or killed. Kim might be the only one left…

"Ensign Kim."

Kim whirled around. Ensign Vorik was behind him, sitting on his heel behind a console.

Kim joined him. "Did you get a look at them?"

"I did not." Vorik responded. "I do believe the weapons they are using will not harm the crew members, though they will be…'knocked out', for a few hours."

Kim nodded. "What do they want?" He muttered. "How did they get on _Voyager?"_

"They used transporters." Vorik informed. "My hypothesis would be that when the Demori took our computer systems, that included the transporters."

Kim nodded. "Sounds plausible. But why would they want _Voyager_?"

"To many species in this quadrant, _Voyager_ had been more powerful and better equipped than any they've ever encountered. They may want to take it and use it to their advantage."

Kim nodded. That was another good theory. "Now, the last question. How did they get in range close enough to-"

"Z'Mor, I believe that every engineer crew member is now put asleep." A voice said suddenly, switching to a hard metallic voice that Kim could understand. 

"Z'Mor?" He whispered. "Isn't that the Chancellor's name that is trying to help us get our systems back from the Demori?"

"I believe that is correct."

Kim's mouth dropped open. "We've been tricked!"

"We've managed to bring back power to the viewscreen and shields."

Chakotay looked up from his command chair at Tuvok. "What about weapons and sensors?"

"We have not yet received enough power from 7's alcove to bring either back on-line."

Chakotay sighed and turned to the viewscreen. "Let's at least take a look."

The viewscreen came to life and Chakotay found himself staring at the 'airplane' ship. Chakotay stared at it, then asked. "Are there any other ships in the vicinity?"

"Negative."

Chakotay was on his feet before he even knew what was going on. "Kathryn!"

Janeway appeared in the doorway of her ready-room. He waved her forward and walked toward him, 7 following closely.

"Notice anything?" Chakotay indicated to the viewscreen.

Janeway paled. "Is there any other ship?"

"No."

Janeway turned her head to Chakotay and their eyes met. "We've been lied to."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

****

"Ms. Torres, do you have any special talents?" The man if front of her asked. After some searching she had found Maquis leader on Kaladan III. He was a tall, muscular Bajoran with orange hair that was evenly cut in a crew cut style.

"I have 2 years of Starfleet training, while I was at the Academy. I studied mostly engineering. Oh, and I have a wicked right hook." B'Elanna told him.

"Torres, welcome to the Maquis. I'm Bejak. I think we can find something for you to do around here. You can start over there, those parts could use sorting and cataloging to see if any of them are any good." Bejak told her, pointing in the direction of a huge stack of assorted pieces. B'Elanna pushed up the sleeves on the brown shirt she was wearing and grabbed the small tool kit. Bejak held out to her and head towards the supplies.

True to his word, Bejak always found something for B'Elanna to do. Most days she sorted parts or monitored communication. Sometimes there'd be some repairs that she could help with, but most the time her work was rather unchallenging.

After her shift, B'Elanna studied the pieced together logs of ships that had gone up against the Cardassians. She was working on a theory dealing with the shield frequencies of Cardassian battle cruisers. She had found a few frequencies that were quite common in many of the cruisers.

"Hey, Bejak, wait up!" B'Elanna called.

"Torres, what can I do for you?" He asked. B'Elanna had found Bejak to be a very helpful person during her stay with Maquis on Kaladan III.

"I need more of a challenge." She spat out. She wasn't really one for small talk.

"OK, let me think…hm…in two days, there is a small fighter coming to puck up some weapons. They took pretty heavy losses and could probably use someone with some engineering training. We can't use direct communication with them…but maybe…come with me. I have an idea."

"Seska, beam the cargo up, please."

B'Elanna felt the familiar tingle of a transporter beam run through her body. It was about time. She had been crunched up in a cargo transport container for over two hours.

"Seska, is the transportation complete?" B'Elanna heard a man ask as the transportation ended.

"Yes, everything worked out fi-Chakotay, we seem to have some unexpected cargo. One of the containment units is containing a humanoid life form." The female replied. She heard someone tap in the access code to the container, then a bright light pierced the unit. After a few seconds, B'Elanna's eyes adjusted to the change in lighting and she noticed a phaser pointed straight toward her. She looked up and found a Bajoran woman and a large Indian man with a tattoo both with phasers pointed at her. 

"Wait, don't shoot. Bejak sent me. He said you guys could use an extra engineer." B'Elanna explained. "He would have contacted you, but he didn't want to blow your cover." After the mention of Bejak, the two rebels lowered their phaser but still seemed to remain on guard.

"OK, lets pull out of orbit." The Indian man ordered. "I'm Chakotay and this is Seska. Welcome to the _Zola_." He told her, then he glanced at her with a quizzical eye.

"Yes, I'm half Klingon." B'Elanna sighed, she had seen looks like that before when people were trying to figure out what species she was.

"Oh no, it wasn't that, I was just wandering how old you were and what type of training you had received." Chakotay reassured.

"I'm 21. I went to Klingon training schools until I was eighteen and entered the Starfleet Academy. At the end of my 2nd year Starfleet and I agreed that we weren't right for each other. That's when I left and came to Kaladan III."

"Then you joined the Maquis, right?" Seska cut in.

"No, not quite. I worked as a waitress for almost a year before I joined up." B'Elanna finished summing up her life.

"Cardassians off the port bow." Someone called.

"Battle stations!" Chakotay yelled.

B'Elanna found herself in the middle of a flood of people swarming to their posts. Somehow, in the middle of the chaos, she made her way over to the unoccupied engineer station of the rundown bridge. Bejak had said they had lost almost all of their capable engineers in their last fight and that the Captain had had to fill in. She didn't think he'd mind if she helped out. After all, this is what she had spent two years at the Academy and her spare time on Kaladan III training for. Even if she wasn't certified, she was still a capable engineer.

"Evasive maneuvers, let's try and get out of this one alive." Chakotay ordered from somewhere on the bridge.

"Wait, if we direct all power to the their propulsion systems, then…" B'Elanna started, then got completely wrapped up in her own idea.

Chakotay opened his mouth to object, but when he saw the look in her eyes he knew she was determined to go through with it. He didn't think it would work, but it might buy them some escape time.

B'Elanna quickly rerouted power to weapons. She'd finally get a chance to use some of the research she'd done Cardassian shield frequencies. Picking the most popular frequency she set the weapons for it then let loose. The phasers sliced through the Cardassians shields causing heavy damage and the cruiser limped away at impulse.

"Our weapons aren't that good, how'd you do that?" Chakotay asked in amazement. 

"I spent my free time on Kaladan III studying Cardassian shield frequencies from old Maquis logs." B'Elanna explained.

"Everyone, this is our knew Chief Engineer, ah…I don't think you told me your name." Chakotay said, slightly embarrassed.

"B'Elanna Torres." She said. It took her a second to remember she even had a name. She wanted more challenge, but she didn't expect to be Chief Engineer on her first day.

***

And we stare each other down

Like victims in the grind

Probing all the weakness

And hurt we left behind

And we cry

The tears of pearls 

-Tears of Pearls

-Savage Garden

***

Tom grimaced as the doctor healed the last of his wounds and left to fill out a report.

_Damn Ferengi_, Tom thought angrily as he pulled his shirt over his head. _I hate them. _

Not that Tom had _ever_ liked them. His opinion of the greedy alien species was that…well, they were greedy, period.

He glanced down at his ribcage. A small scar had developed when the Ferengi slashed him with a knife.

_Mental note_, he thought, _never try to deal with a Ferengi_.

"Well, Mr. Paris, I'd say you're pretty damn lucky." The doctor was back. He handed him a padd for Tom to sigh. "It's a good thing the authorities for there when they did." 

Tom nodded, forcing a smile.

"Well, you're all set." The doctor moved away. "Have a good day."

Tom knew the doctor was just being friendly, but Tom detected the hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Maybe I should have allowed that Ferengi to kill me, Tom thought as he excited the med-bay on the station. He wasn't even sure if it was a Starfleet station, and basically, he didn't care.

As he walked through the halls, he nodded to anyone not wearing a Starfleet uniform. His hatred for Starfleet, for the Federation, had escalated in the time he spent away from it.

A whole year had passed since that day he was found guilty. Tom didn't exactly keep track of time, but that day stuck out in his mind. It had been the day of Hell. The day his life-

A laugh made Tom come to an abrupt stop. He recognized the laugh. He looked around and his eyes fell on a young woman with long blond hair and bright blue eyes. She was speaking to a young man, and both were smiling.

The woman kissed the man and headed in Tom's direction, the man disappearing down another hall.

"Danielle?" Tom gasped and the woman stopped in front of him.

"Do I know you?" Danielle asked blankly.

Tom stared at his older sister, someone he had not seen in the flesh since he was 12-years-old. She really didn't recognize him? "Tom." He pointed to himself. "You're brother."

Danielle wheeled back, as if she had been slapped. She quickly regained her posture and said. "Oh. Hi."

_Oh Hi?_ Tom thought, a little bit angry. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm…uh, here for a botanist meeting." She glanced down at the floor. "I have a shuttle I have to catch." She turned and headed away from Tom, as if walking out of his life again.

"What the hell is going on?" Tom yelled after her. "Why has my entire family erased me from their minds?"

Danielle had stopped, but didn't turn around. There was a silence and Tom noticed Danielle's left hand come up to her face and wipe away a tear. "I really have to go." And she started walking, but it turned into a run.

Tom was once again alone in the hall, deserted by everyone, including his family.

Danielle ran to her ship, a small gardening ship she had bought 4 years ago so she could get from one planet to another without sharing a shuttle with others. She ran past her fiancée and into her bedroom, ignoring his concerned calls.

She threw herself onto her bed and started crying.

Seeing her brother again…there were no words to describe it.

It's not that she didn't love Tom, he was her brother. But that was not according to her father.

Danielle had followed Tom's trial in detail when it had happened. After he was charged guilty, she had received a transmission from her mother. Mrs. Paris was in tears, crying about her son. She explained to Danielle that Admiral Paris no longer excepted Thomas Eugene Paris a member of the family. In just a few moments, Danielle's loving 5-person family was reduced to 4.

By now, Danielle's pillow was wet, but she didn't stop crying. She kept seeing Tom's face in her mind. She wanted to get up and go back to Tom, to talk to him, to find out what he'd been up to for the past 10 years of his life. But she knew she couldn't.

"Tom." She whispered into the air. "Why did you have to ruin our family?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

****

"So, wait, he asked you on a date, not the other way around?" B'Elanna asked. She was so jealous of Seska. She was in a great relationship with Captain Chakotay. In her year on the _Zola_, B'Elanna had had another string of lovers, but nothing as serious as Seska had with Chakotay. B'Elanna didn't want to admit it, but she had a small crush on Chakotay since she had come aboard the small freighter. She didn't tell Seska that, though 

"Yes, he was so romantic, too." Seska told her as they rounded a corner. B'Elanna caught sight of Chakotay talking to some guy he'd paid to pilot them through the Badlands.

"Seska, I'll catch up to you later, I have to go ask Chakotay about something." B'Elanna told her friend. Seska nodded and headed in a different direction. 

"Chakotay! There you are!" B'Elanna yelled as she headed toward him. Chakotay looked up at her then turned back to the man he was talking with and finished his conversation. Then he turned towards the direction B'Elanna was heading at him from.

"Chakotay, we have a small problem. We're leaking plasma coolant into space. It's not much, but if a ship were to spot it, our cover would be blown awfully quickly."

"And you'd like me to do what about it?" He asked sharply. His voice told B'Elanna this was not a good time to bring this up.

"Uh…nothing. I just thought you should know." She lied. It looked like she was going to have to fix the coolant leak without help from the Captain.

She left Chakotay and headed for Engineering. If the coolant keep increasing its rate of filtration, it wouldn't be long before somebody found them.

"Two Cardassian vessel approaching." Someone's voice called, echoing over the noise of Engineering. B'Elanna cursed, she didn't have an ace up her sleeve to get them out of this one. She set off for the bridge of the little beaten ship.

As she stepped onto the bridge, phaser fire rocked the small ship, causing her almost to lose her balance. She grabbed a console for support.

"Return fire." Chakotay ordered from the helm. A few weeks back, Chakotay's hired pilot had transferred over to the _Kai._

"Torres, I need more power, as of 10 seconds ago." Chakotay yelled over the explosions.

"Damn it, Chakotay. I'm an engineer, not a magician. What do you want me to do? Pull power out of the air?" She screamed back. Slamming her fists into a console, she exploded into a string of Klingon and human curses.

"Can you give me anything?" He asked her. He was hoping she'd get control of herself and not smash him into something. It was a risk, but one he had to take.

"OK, wait, I'm transferring power from transporters and tractor beam. That's all you get. Now, get us the hell out of here." She exploded at him. Chakotay's risk had paid off. The little ship shuttered then shot off into space. Luck was with them and the Cardassians didn't pursue.

***

We are planets to each other

Drifting in our orbits

To a brief eclipse

Each of us a world apart

Alone and yet together

Like two passing ships

-Entre Novs

-Rush

***

Tom spent the next year flying shuttles for people. Fly there, deliver this, fly here, deliver that. He was paid for his services, than turned around and spent it all at a near-by bar. That was how he spent his time.

At some points, he even smuggled stuff, and that was about the only thrill he ever got. He had a lot of woman, but none ever stayed long. They all left, sometimes because someone or something better came along, or they learned Tom had no past, no family, and was accused of murder. And none of the woman was ever or had ever been in Starfleet. Tom made sure of that.

One day, while drinking up the last of his money at a bar, a man approached him. Tom had never seen him there before, but he looked like he needed a favor.

The man was tall, with short-cropped brown hair and a tattoo over his left eye. He stopped in front of Tom and, eyeing him suspiciously asked, "I heard you're a pilot. Is that true?"

Tom shrugged, already a little intoxicated. "Depends."

"On what?"

"How much money you got."

The man frowned. "I got enough. But what I actually need is a long term pilot."

Tome studied him. "How much?"

"How much do you charge?"

"Depends. What's the cargo?"

"There is not cargo." By now the man was sitting across from him. "Tell you what. I'll pay you 50,000 credits in assorted alien money if you'll pilot my crew and I through the Badlands."

Tom stared at him, mouth agape. "The Badlands? For 50,000 credits? Are you insane?"

"90,000 credits."

Tom stared at him. The guy was either desperate or insane. "Alright. You got yourself a deal." Tom reached across the table and shook the man's hand. "Tom Paris."

"Captain Chakotay. Tell me, Tom, have ever heard of the Maquis?"

Tom nodded. "Yeah. Read a paper about them at Academy before I was kicked out for homicide."

Chakotay raised an eyebrow. "I think you'll do fine. The Maquis is a group of 'rebels', I guess you can say. Most of us are from Starfleet, but joined because they didn't like the way my people are treated. We're fighting for our land against the Federation and the Cardassians."

Tom's ears perked up. Fighting against the Federation? That sounded like a dream come true. "When do we leave?"

"Right away."

"Fine with me." Tom stood up and grabbed an old duffel bag that he carried everywhere with him and followed Chakotay out of the bar.

The ship was an old Federation ship that must have been 30 years old.

"Here it is, the _Zola._" Chakotay proudly pointed to the ship.

"Very nice." Tom muttered. "Why don't you show me the helm."

Chakotay side-glanced at Tom. "Right this way."

He led Tom to the bridge and Tom raised his eyebrows. He had served on many other ships better than this one. Why this Indian was so attached to the piece of junk was beyond him.

Tom looked around the bridge. It was old and falling apart and Tom wandered where the engineer was and why he had neglected his work on making the ship more presentable. No one wore a uniform and Tom felt oddly…not at home here.

"Lauren." Chakotay called out to the bridge crew.

A young Bajoran woman poked her head up above a console and Tom almost stumbled. She was shorter than he was, with short brown hair and brown eye. "What?"

"Show him around. He's piloting us through the Badlands." And Chakotay disappeared into the turbolift.

Lauren crossed her arms and looked at Tom up and down. "Hm. You're pretty brave to pilot through the Badlands."

"Well that's me." Tom put on his goofy lop-sided grin. "The risk taker. I'm Tom Paris."

"And I'm not interested." Lauren replied.

Tom raised an eyebrow. He'd received worse rejections. "Are you by any chance Betazoid?"

Lauren didn't smile. "Helms down there." She pointed to the console at the front of the bridge. "Your quarters will be on deck 2, room 017."

"Thanks." I think, Tom wanted to add. "Um, have you always worked for Chakotay?"

Lauren shook her head. "No. I'm only on the _Zola_ for a few more days before I go back to work for Captain Grant Allen."

"Captain Allen?" Tom mused as he headed for the helm. How far would Tom go to get Lauren?

Two hours later, Tom had piloted the _Zola_ to the edge of the Badlands. He started at the swirling mass of nebula. "You want me to pilot _that_?" He asked, turning around in his chair. 

Chakotay smiled. "Don't worry. There hasn't been any ships destroyed here lately."

"Oh yeah, that makes everything better." Tom grumbled and fired thrusters.

Later, Tom was walking to his quarters, when he noticed Chakotay up ahead. Tom and the Indian hadn't gotten along very well since Tom came aboard, and knew that Chakotay hated him. Which was fine with Tom. Hopefully, after this talk, he would never have to see him again. "Hey Chakotay!"

The big Indian turned around. "Yeah?"

Tom walked over. "I was talking to Lauren earlier. I think…I'd like to join up."

Chakotay raised an eyebrow. "Join up? And how much money are we thinking of?"

Tom tried to look shocked. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I know your type, Paris. You'll fight for anyone who will pay your bar bill."

Tom snorted. "Please. I feel like I could help out the Maquis, that's all."

Chakotay studied him uneasily. "We're rendezvousing with the _Kai_. That's were Lauren is stationed. I'll talk to Grant Allen about transforming you there. They need a good pilot." He smiled tightly. "Don't worry, you'll still get your money."

Tom smiled. "Great." He started to walk away.

"Paris!"

Tom turned around.

"If anything goes wrong on the _Kai_, I'll come looking for you."

The two men stood facing each other, staring each other down.

"Chakotay! There you are!" A shout rang through the halls. Chakotay broke his stare at the female's voice.

"Don't worry, sir." Tom said sarcastically, saluting in a mocking manner. "You won't be disappointed." And he headed off to the bridge.

To Tom, the _Kai _was an almost exact replica of the _Zola._

Tom had gotten permission to join the crew of the _Kai_, much to Lauren's surprise.

The night before they left, Tom managed to somehow get Lauren to eat dinner with him. During that dinner, Tom found out a bit of information from Lauren.

Her full name was Ro Lauren and she fought in the Resistance against the Cardassians on Bajor before she joined Starfleet. She served aboard the Federation ship U.S.S. _Enterprise-D_, under the command of Captain Jean-Luc Picard before leaving to fight with the Maquis. She also felt that Starfleet was too strict and Tom was glad someone agreed.

The next day, they beamed over the _Kai_ and were met by Captain Grant Allen.

For a month, Tom fought beside the Maquis. In that time, Tom had managed to win Lauren's heart. 

Captain Allen hadn't liked Tom from the moment he had laid eyes on him, he just didn't trust him. But Tom was a great pilot, and Allen needed him.

At the end of the month, the _Kai_ came under attack by a Federation ship. This was the 5th battle for the _Kai_ in less than 10 days. And the _Kai _was under construction when the Federation ship attacked. Many of their major systems were down but weapons, impulse and shields were still up.

But the small Maquis ship was no match for the huge Starfleet vessel.

In only a few minutes, half the crew was dead, they had no weapons and were getting hit pretty badly.

The bridge crew was down to four: Tom, Allen, Lauren and a young Bajoran named Shakan.

"We've lost impulse!" Tom called out as another proton torpedo hit the _Kai._

"Hull breach on deck 6." Shakan said. "Force fields are in place, but I don't know how long they'll stay active."

Allen bit his lip.

"We lost forward phasers." Lauren called.

"Reroute power from all systems, including life support!" Allen ordered, turning to look at Lauren.

Tom swiveled around in his chair. "Are you crazy?" He shouted. "Rerouting life support to phasers? Why don't you just abandon ship? Then the crew can have a chance!"

"Do you have a problem with my orders?" Allen barked in his direction.

Tom was on his feet. "Yeah, I do."

"I don't care what you think, Paris, your job is to sit behind that helm and look cute!" Allen turned to Lauren. "Reroute power from the force fields to the weapons."

She hesitated. "Grant, if anyone is alive down there, the force fields-"

"Damnit Lauren!" Allen walked to her console and tapped in the order. He turned to Lauren. "Next time, don't-"

He was cut off as the console exploded in their faces.

"Lauren!!" Tom screamed, jumping from his console, but Shakan stopped him.

"Wait." He hissed. And it's a good thing, too. The entire console erupted into flames and Tom could smell burning flesh.

He knew that Ro Lauren was dead. But to his surprise, he felt no tears, but more of a stunned surprise.

Shakan reached over and pushed the 'abandon ship' button. Sirens roared through the ship and Shakan ran to the Jeffries tubes. "Tom! Come on! We've got to get out of here!"

Tom stared at the fire. Could this day get any worse?

Before Tom made it to the tubes, he heard the unmistakable sound of a transporter. As he crawled into tubes, he felt the searing pain of phaser fire strike his left shoulder and he was collapsed into darkness.


End file.
